tv  I  ^     •  w^y^^f  ^  ^  ^  ^ 

N  .  >   -  I 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SAILOR-BOY  BOB, 


BY 


REV.   EDWARD   A.  RAND, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  UP-THE-LADDER  CLUB  SERIES  :  "  "  THE  KNIGHTS  OF  THB 
WHITE  SHIELD,"    "THE  SCHOOL  IN  THE  LIGHT-HOUSE,"  "YARD- 
STICK AND  SCISSORS,"  "  THE  CAMP  AT  SURF  BLUFF,"  AND  "  OUT 
OF  THS  BREAKERS  ;"  "ART  SERIES;"  "SCHOOL  AND  CAMP 
SERIES:  "  "  PUSHING  AHEAD,  OR,  BIG  BROTHER  DAVE," 
"  ROY'S  DORY  AT  THE  SEA-SHORE," AND  "  LITTLK 
BROWN-TOP  ;"  "  BARK  CABIN  ON  KEARSARGE," 
"  FIGHTING  THE  SEA,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK:  PHILLIPS  &>  HUNT. 
CINCINNA  Tit  CRANSTON  &  STOWE. 


Copyright,  1887,  by 
PHILLIPS    &    HUNT, 

New  York. 


-RI535 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  CAN  Go  IF  HE  WISH. 5 

II.  HE  CHOOSES  TO  Go 19 

III.  WANTED,  MITTENS 32 

IV.  GETTING  His  SEA-LEGS  ON 52 

V.  AT  THE  WALKER  HOME 65 

VI.  ASHORE  STILL   88 

VII.  DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC 101 

VIII.  MIGHT  TRY 118 

IX.  ROUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT 136 

X.  A  CLOUD  THAT  GROWS 156 

XI.  A  BREAK  IN  THE  CLOUD 168 

XII.  THERE  SHE  BLOWS  ! 180 

XIII.  SOUNDING  A  MYSTERY 193 

XIV.  THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED 208 

XV.  How  ? 224 

XVI.  ADRIFT 242 

XVII.  A  WONDERFUL  MEETING 275 

XVIII.  A  SAIL  !    A  SAIL  ! 289 

XIX.  A  WRECK  THAT  WAS  NOT  A  WRECK 306 

XX.  ASSAULT  ONE 319 

XXI.  CLIMBING  A  GENEALOGICAL  TREE 330 

XXII.  FROM  GOOD  TO  BETTER,  FROM  BAD  TO  WORSE...  345 


SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTEK  I. 

CAN    GO    IF    HE    WISH. 

"  T)LEASE  say  that  again,  Squire  "Winthrop," 
X    said  Bob  Walker,  looking  up  from   his 
spade  that  he  had  just  thrust  fnto  one  of  the 
squire's  old-fashioned  garden  beds. 

The  squire  smiled.  "Want  to  hear  it  again, 
Bob  ?  Why,  it  was  not  so  wonderful.  I  said  if 
you  wanted  the  chance  to  go  to  sea  you  could 
have  it  in  the  whaler,  the  Andromeda.  The 
same  offer  is  open  to  my  young  relative,  Ralph." 
Bob  could  hardly  repress  his  excitement.  He 
lifted  his  hands  from  the  old  spade.  He  lifted 
his  eyes  up  to  the  old  clock-dial  on  the  stone 
church  down  on  the  main  business  street  of  Old- 
buryport.  Ten  minutes  more,  and  the  tired, 
sleepy  hands  would  be  folded  at  twelve  for  a 
moment's  halt  and  a  moment's  nap. 
\  "  I — I  wish  you  would  let  me  off  now,  and  I 


Q  SAILOK-BOT  BOB. 

will  make  up  the  ten  minutes  this  afternoon," 
said  Bob,. trying  to  speak  deliberately,  but  feel- 
ing somewhat  like  a  volcano  that  is  trying  to  de- 
liver its  lava  with  dignified  composure. 

"O,  you  need  not  make  it  up,  and  if  you 
would*  like  to  go  home  now,  do  so,  Bob.  That 
is  all  right." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Bob. 
Another  second,  not  minute,  he  was  flying 
out  of  that  old-fashioned  garden,  Squire  Win- 
throp  laughing  away  quietly  as  he  watched  him. 
"  What  a  Bob !     Didn't  go  out  of  the  gate, 
did  he  ?    Took  a  short  cut  back  of  the  barn !  " 
thought  the  squire. 

"  A  short  cut ! "  How  could  Bob  possibly 
have  gone  home  the  usual  way  ?  It  seemed  to 
him  as  if  he  would  have  died  on  that  long  route 
down  "  Winthrop  Court "  into  Central  Street, 
and  then  through  Parker  Street  to  Spinks's  Al- 
ley. He  went  by  the  shortest  possible  way. 
Back  of  the  squire's  barn,  then  through  a  yard 
back  of  a  big  brick  block,  into  the  back  door  of 
Simile's  apothecary-store  ("  Charlie  Lambert,  the 
clerk,  will  let  me,"  reasoned  Bob),  through  the 
store,  out  upon  Central  Street,  through  Central 
Street  Court,  over  two  fences  and  through  two 


CAN  Go  IF  HE  WISH.  7 

vacant  lots  into  Parker  Street,  and  then  into 
Spinks's  Alley,  on  which  lived  the  Walkers  in  a 
humble  house.  He  turned  the  corner  of  Parker 
Street  and  rushed  so  rapidly  into  Spinks's  Al- 
ley that  he  almost  upset  fat,  puffing  Mrs.  Bar- 
tram,  her  arms  full  of  bags  of  candy  and  peanuts 
destined  for  her  stand  at  the  corner  of  Parker 
and  Central. 

"  Eh — eh — look  out,  young  man  !  "  screamed 
the  one-cent  merchant,  staggering  back  from  a 
blow  that  might  have  given  her  a  life-long 
trouble,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  barricade  of  bags 
in  her  arms.  "  Mind  who  you  are  hitting !  " 

"I — I — beg  pardon,"  said  Bob,  turning  to 
look,  but  not  stopping. 

The  door  of  his  home  was  open,  and  an  odor 
of  a  fry  escaped  into  the  street. 

"  Fried  haddock !  "  Bob  would  have  said  any 
other  day,  but  to-day  his  thought  was  whether 
it  might  not  be  "  fried  whale  !  "  That  was  the 
kind  of  fish  now  to  be  borne  in  mind.  Through 
this  opened  door,  into  the  entry  and  then  into 
the  sitting-room  he  rushed,  and  finally  into  the 
kitchen.  There  before  the  stove  was  a  girl  with 
a  bright,  handsome  face  and  a  cloud  of  glossy 
brown  curls.  This  was  Alma,  the  oldest  dangh- 


8  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

ter  —  "Alma  the  beautiful  and  Alma  the 
blessed,"  her  father  would  have  said— called 
Alma  because— but  I  must  not  stop  now  to  give 
the  reason  of  her  name.  Bob  wants  to  speak.  I 
will  keep  him  waiting  long  enough  to  say  that 
several  young  Walkers,  male  and  female,  were 
coming  into  the  kitchen  by  another  door,  hav- 
ing just  arrived  from  school.  Mrs.  "Walker  sat 
by  an  open  window  for  two  reasons :  to  get  "  a 
sniff  of  pure  air,"  as  she  declared,  and  also  sniff 
her  camphor-bottle.  She  was  a  weakly  woman, 
with  the  look  of  a  probable  invalid.  Mr.  Sar- 
dinius  Walker,  a  man  with  a  rather  dark,  vision- 
ary face,  as  if  he  might  be  fond  of  contemplative 
moods,  and  moods  not  always  hopeful,  appeared 
at  a  door  in  a  corner.  Here  it  was  that  the 
back  chamber  stairs  touched  the  kitchen  floor. 
His  arms  were  full  of  shoes  that  he  had  been  cob- 
bling in  the  garret.  Alma  ceased  to  watch  her 
fish.  The  school  children  halted  on  the  threshold, 
Mrs.  Walker  let  her  camphor-bottle  fall  into 
her  lap,  and  the  burdened  cobbler  almost  dropped 
his  shoes  when  Bob  burst  into  the  kitchen,  pant- 
ing, perspiring,  and  gasping : 

"  Folks — folks — I've  got  a — chance  to — go — 
a-whaling — if  you — are  willing." 


CAN  Go  IF  HE  WISH.  9 

"  Got  a  chance  to  what  ? "  asked  his  father  in 
astonishment. 

"  Dear  me !  a-whaling  ? "  exclaimed  Alma,  al- 
lowing her  fish  to  burn. 

"  You  crazy  f  "  said  his  mother  to  Bob. 

"I'll  tell — in  just — three  minutes,"  said  Bob 
excitedly,  looking  round  wildly.  *'  I  want  to  go 
to  the  wharf.  Have  dinner  ready,  wont  you, 
Alma,  when — T  get  back  ? " 

Out  of  the  house  Bob  rushed  again. 

"Why,  Sardinius,"  said  Mrs.  Walker  to  her 
husband,  "  what  does  Bob  mean  ? " 

"  I  only  know  what  he  said,  wife." 

"You  haven't  put  him  up  to  any  thing?"  she 
asked,  knowing  her  husband's  fondness  for 
schemes,  and  especially  one  as  foolhardy  as,  to 
her  mind,  this  going  after  whales  promised  to  be. 

"Why,  Cynthy,  of  course  not.  What  do  you 
mean  ? "  said  her  husband  reprovingly. 

"Alma,  that  fish  is  burning,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Walker,  preferring  to  change  the  subject. 

The  daughter  did  not  seem  to  hear.  She 
stood  in  the  smoky  atmosphere,  knife  and  fork 
in  hand,  a  dazed  look  in  her  soft,  lustrous  eyes. 

"  Alma,  that  fish  is  burning,"  said  her  mother, 
more  emphatically. 


10  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

"  O— h— h ! "  exclaimed  the  startled  girl,  re- 
turning to  her  charge.  u  Bob  almost  took  my 
senses  away.  Father,  you  suppose  Bob  means 
that  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  daughter." 

"  I  know ;  and  I  promise  you  it  will  turn  out 
that  he  has  gone  down  to  see  that  old  whaler," 
said  the  mother. 

Mrs.  Walker's  guess  was  correct.  Bob  went 
to  see  a  sailor  acquaintance,  Horace  Haviland, 
on  board  the  Andromeda  which  was  lying  at  a 
near  wharf.  Bob  wished  to  say  this :  "  Perhaps 
— perhaps  I  may  go  with  yon.  Squire  Win- 
throp  says  I  may ;  and  perhaps  Ralph  Winthrop 
may  go." 

"  Good  for  you,  Bob  1  'Twill  make  a  man 
of  you,"  replied  the  weather-beaten  sailor, 
leaning  over  the  freshly  painted  rail  of  the 
Andromeda. 

"I  thought  you  would  like  to  know,"  said 
the  enthusiastic  Bob,  halting  one  moment  on  the 
wharf.  Turning  about  he  ran  home. 

"Now,  Bob,  tell  us  what  you  mean,"  said 
Alma,  as  she  landed  in  his  plate  his  share  of  the 
burned  haddock.  "You  almost  frightened  us 
out  of  our  wits." 


CAN  Go  IF  HE  WISH.  11 

She  did  not  say,  "  You  are  responsible  for 
this  burned  fish."  It  was  not  her  style. 

Bob  proceeded  to  eat  his  dinner,  and  at  the 
same  time  tell  what  he  did  mean ;  what  Squire 
Winthrop  said  to  him,  and  what  he  would  like 
to  do.  Then  he  waited  for  the  opinion  of  the 
family. 

"  Now  I  see,  Robert,"  remarked  his  father. 
"  We  can  think  it  over." 

"  It  will  need  a  good  deal  of  thinking,  in  my 
opinion,"  said  his  mother. 

Alma  made  no  remark,  but  that  evening  she 
and  Bob  stayed  in  the  kitchen  when  the  others 
had  retired,  and  talked  the  new  project  over. 
It  was  raining.     The  night  was  a  chilly  one  in  - 
April,  and  the  two  sat  by  the  stove. 

"  Now,  Alma,  I  suppose  you  think  I  am 
rather  rash  in  my  ideas,  but  I  don't  believe  it  is 
rash,  though  I  know  I  tumbled  in  and  out  of 
the  house  this  morning  like  a  madman  —  this 
noon,  I  mean.  But,  you  see,  I  have  been  think- 
ing. I  have  got  through  school.  Seventeen,  you 
know,  and  I  really  don't  know  what  to  do.  I 
don't  seem  to  take  to  business  as  yet,  and  really 
I  can't  get  a  chance  to  go  into  a  store.  There  is 
nothing  permanent  that  seems  to  offer  itself, 


12  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

no  good  opening  I  know  of.  I  believe  Stiggins 
wants  a  boy — " 

"Don't  you  go  into  Stiggins's  even  if  we 
have  to  go  to  the  poor-house,"  declared  Alma 
warmly.  "  He  sells  rum." 

"I  knew  you  wouldn't  like  that.  Then  I 
don't  fancy  a  trade,  you  know.  Really,  I  have 
said  to  myself  more  than  once,  '  Bob,  why  don't 
you  try  going  to  sea  ? '  It  is  tough,  you  know. 
I  don't  expect  an  easy  time,  but  then  I  must  do 
something.  Father,  you  know — " 

"  Poor  father ! "  sighed  Alma. 

"  Say,"  asked  Bob,  "  where  did  he  get  those 
shoes  to  mend  ?  Did  he  pick  them  up  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  will  he  get  pay  for  them  ? " 

Alma  must  have  had  a  bird-cage  in  her 
throat,  for  the  canaries  seemed  to  sing  when  she 

9  O 

laughed,  and  she  now  laughed  heartily. 

"  They  are  our  children's  shoes,  Bob,  and  I 
believe  he  has  a  pair  of  yours  and  mine.  He 
came  and  held  up  mine,  and  said,  '  See,  Alma, 
I  have  not  tried  shoemaking  since  I  was  a  young 
man,  and  I  am  pleased  to  know  I  have  not  lost 
all  my  knack  yet.  Now  I  don't  think  you  will 
have  wet  feet  any  longer  when  it  rains,  Alma.' 
Poor  father !  Wasn't  he  kind  ?  No,  he  won't 


CAN  Go  IF  HE  WISH.  13 

get  any  pay  for  his  cobbling,  but  he  will  have 
to  pay  out  money  for  his  stock." 

Bob  sprang  up  from  his  chair  and  walked 
about  the  kitchen. 

"  There,  Alma !  That  is  just  what  takes  hold 
of  me.  Seventeen ;  and  I  ought  to  be  doing 
something  more  than  digging  Squire  Winthrop's 
garden  to-day,  and  perhaps  writing  for  him  to- 
morrow, and  the  third  day  not  having  a  thing 
to  do.  Now,  if  I  go  off.  in  that  whaler,  there 
will  be  steady  wages  coming  in.  Perhaps  I  can 
fix  it  with  Squire  Winthrop  so  that  the  family 
can  have  some  of  my  pay  and  draw  it  while  I 
am  gone.  Don't  you  see,  Alma  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Alma,  sorrowfully,  fastening  her 
dark  eyes  on  the  stove. 

"  Fire  almost  out,  Alma  ? " 

"  Yes,"  she  said  laughingly,  "  every  thing  is 
almost  out  in  this  house.  But  there,  I  do  know 
where  one  stick  more  is — out  in  the  back  entry. 
Ted  wanted  to  make  a  boat  of  it  and  pitch  it 
into  the  dock,  and  I  said,  '  No,  young  man,  that 
is  precious.' " 

"  Good  for  you,  Alma !  If  it  wasn't  for  you, 
what  would  become  of  us  all  ? " 

In  a  very  natural  way  Alma  deprecated  this 


14  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

remark,  and  said  "it  was  no  such  thing." 
Then  she  added  a  word  for  her  father — that  she 
believed  he  would  yet  get  something  to  do. 

"  I  dare  say,"  remarked  Bob ;  "  but  then,  you 
know,  father  hasn't  a  regular  trade  or  been  edu- 
cated to  business.  However,  we  will  hope." 

That  gratified  Alma.  She  abounded  in  hope, 
even  as  the  Atlantic  Ocean  in  water.  People 
that  were  in  the  depths  of  any  trouble  liked  to 
talk  with  Alma.  She  could  see  a  light  down  in 
the  dark  pit  of  their  misery  if  any  body  could. 

"  Yes  ! "  she  now  exclaimed,  "  father  will  get 
something  to  do,  I  know.  And.  Bob,  if — if — it 
is  best  for  you  to  go  whaling,  I  will  make  the 
best  of  it.  How  long  will  you  be  gone  ? " 

"  Well,  Captain  Gran  by  says  that  vessels  are 
apt  to  be  gone  for  several  years,  but  if  he  can 
get  back  in  two  years  or  less  he  would  like  it." 

"  0,  well,  that  won't  be  forever,  and  we  will 
make  the  best  of  it.  Any  of  the  Oldburyport 
boys  going  with  you  ? " 

"  Squire  Winthrop  said  Kalph  might  go." 

Alma  gave  a  little  start.  Bob  could  not  see 
this,  as  the  kitchen  was  quite  dark.  There  was 
no  lamp,  and  for  a  good  reason.  The  lamps 
in  the  house  were  not  numerous,  and  they 


CAN  Go  IF  HE  WISH.  15 

were  all  up-stairs,  and  only  flashes  from  the  fire 
in  the  stove  played  through  the  openings  in  the 
door  upon  the  uncarpeted  floor  and  low  ceiling. 
No,  Bob  did  not  see  that  little  nervous  move- 
ment by  Alma  when  he  said  Ralph  might  go. 
Alma  and  Ralph  moved  in  very  different  circles 
in  society,  and  only  met  as  Ralph  might  appear 
at  the  Walkers'  humble  door  and  inquire  for 
Bob.  True,  some  of  the  old  gossips  that  had 
tongues  warranted  to  run  forever  did  say  that 
Ralph  called  when  Bob  could  not  possibly  be  at 
home,  and  that  they  had  seen  Alma  slyly  look 
at  the  Winthrops'  pew  in  church.  But  then 
Ralph  might  have  an  errand  with  Ted  Walker 
or  Billy  or  Carrie,  and  as  for  that  church  mat- 
ter, why,  Ralph  wore  a  very  graceful  circular 
cloak,  fashionable  in  those  days,  and  it  naturally 
would  attract  the  notice  of  Alma,  a  girl  who 
liked  to  see  graceful  things.  Besides,  Ralph's 
fine,  classical  face  had  a  rather  sickly  look,  for 
he  was  not  very  robust,  and  this  state  of  things 
would  naturally  excite  the  compassionate  inter- 
est of  a  warm-hearted  girl  like  Alma.  If  there 
had  been  any  thing  significant  in  Ralph's  fre- 
quent calls  or  in  Alma's  very  modest  and 
stealthy  glances  in  church,  would  not  Bob  have 


16  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

noticed  it?     He  certainly  suspected  nothing. 
He  now  remarked  : 

"  Yes,  the  squire  said  Kalph  might  go,  and  I 
hope  he  will." 

"Might"  and  "could"  are  two  different 
words,  and  "  could  "  would  have  been  the  proper 
word  here.  All  that  the  squire  said  was  that 
the  offer  made  to  Bob  was  open  to  Ralph  also. 
Ralph  therefore  could  go,  and  yet  might  not. 
The  way  Alma  understood  it,  the  prospect  was 
that  Ralph  both  could  and  might  go.  She 
breathed  a  long  sigh,  but  the  crackling  of  the 
wood  in  the  stove  and  the  drip  of  the  rain  on  a 
shelf  outside  the  window  smothered  the  sound 
of  this  heavy  breathing.  She  felt  that  in  resign- 
ing Bob  to  the  whales  she  had  cast  overboard  a 
treasure,  and  she  was  now  preparing  to  make 
another  surrender. 

"  So  you  see,  Alma,"  said  Bob,  returning  to 
the  subject  of  his  own  course  of  action,  "  it  is 
really  best — if  father  and  mother  are  willing — 
best  for  me  to  go,  though  I  know  that  whaling 
is  any  thing  but  ea§y  work.  You  wont  have 
my  big  appetite  to  satisfy,  and  my  bed  to  make, 
and—" 

"  0,  Bob,  don't  think  it  is  hard ! " 


CAN  <ro  O1  HE  WISH.  17 

"I  know  that;  but  those  are  facts.  Then 
you'll  have  my  wages,  Alma,  and — " 

"  Ah,  that  wont  be  you." 

She  paused. 

"  Well,  Bob,  we  are  going  to  make  the  best 
of  it,  though  we  shall  miss  you  awfully.  Per- 
haps you  had  better  go  to  bed  now.  You  know 
you  will  have  to  be  up  nights  watching  if  you 
go  to  sea,  and  you  must  get  all  the  sleep  you  can 
now." 

Bob  went  off,  saying  he  felt  already  like  a 
sailor  at  sea,  but  that  night  he  was  going  to 
watch  with  his  eyes  shut.  Alma  stayed  behind 
to  hear  the  rain  drip  on  a  shelf  outside  the 
window,  to  watch  the  last  of  the  fire  sputter  out 
in  darkness,  and  to — think.  There  will  be  time 
now  to  explain  her  name.  Her  father  had  once 
attended  an  academy.  It  made  a  very  deep  im- 
pression on  him.  He  could  not  see  why,  like 
more  distinguished  men  from  more  distinguished 
institutions,  he  could  not  call  the  old  academy 
his  "  alma  mater"  He  was  very  proud  of  this 
title  which  he  had  bestowed  on  the  old  brick 
box  in  a  country  village.  "When  in  the  course 
of  time  he  was  married — and  married,  too,  at  an 

earlier  date  than  his  income  would  allow— there 
2 


18  SAILOR-BOT  BOB. 

finally  came  children  into  the  home.  The  first 
birth  was  that  of  twins.  He  thought  affection- 
ately of  the  old  academy. 

"  One  of  these  shall  be  named  '  Alma,'  and  the 
other  'Mater,"  he  said.  "Then  I  shall  hear 
*  Alma  Mater '  every  day."  . 

Thus  he  laid  away  in  the  names  of  these  twins, 
like  gold  in  ivory,  the  two  words  dear  to  him, 
meaning  bountiful,  gracious,  kindly  and  cher- 
ishing mother.  It  was  Alma  Abbott  Walker 
and  Mater  Prime  Walker.  "Alma  Mater!" 
As  he  saw  them  side  by  side,  the  two  names 
were  two  links  in  a  short  but  golden  chain. 
Death  came,  though,  and  severed  the  chain. 
Mater,  the  little  "mother,"  was  taken  away. 
Alma,  the  bountiful,  the  nourishing,  and  gra- 
cious, was  left.  She  was  true  to  the  traditions 
of  her  name,  that  night  of  the  talk  with  Bob. 
While  all  others  in  the  family  slept  soundly,  she 
sat  up  and  thought  and  planned.  What  would 
she  do  without  Bob  ?  What  would  her  father 
do?  What  would  her  mother,  Billy,  Ted,  and 
Carrie  do  ?  Then  her  thoughts  came  back  to 
Bob.  Once  in  a  while  somebody  looking  like 
Ralph  flitted  through  her  thoughts. 

Alma  was  now  eighteen. 


HE  CHOOSES  TO  Go.  19 


CHAPTER  II. 

HE    CHOOSES    TO    GO. 

IN  the  last  chapter  it  was  said  that  Bob  Walker 
could  go  to  sea  if  he  wished,  and  he  both 
wished  and  chose  to  go,  and  his  parents  consent- 
ed, though  Mrs.  Walker's  ordinarily  long  face 
grew  longer  yet  when  she  thought  about  the 
voyage.  She  thought,  too,  that  "  Sardinius " 
was  "  unusually  absentminded."  All  at  home 
seemed  to  come  under  a  cloud.  Alma  had  spells 
of  somber  stopping  at  a  chamber-window  from 
which  could  be  seen  the  masts  of  the  Androm- 
eda, while  beyond  these,  a  strip  of  water  flashed 
in  the  sun  like  a  bar  of  silver.  The  children, 
Ted,  Billy,  and  Carrie,  aged  nine,  seven,  and 
five,  had  many  questions  to  ask,  and  Carrie, 
Alma's  bed-mate,  woke  up  one  night  out  of  a 
dream  and  cried  as  she  sobbed  out  the  fear  that 
her  "  Bobbie  was  a-eaten  up  by  wales." 

"  O,  no,"  whispered  Alma,  at  the  same  time 
shivering  at  the  last  thought.  "Bobbie  is  the 
one  to  eat  up  the  whales." 


20  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

But  this  assurance,  which  made  Bob  out  to  be 
a  strange  creature,  a  whale-devourer,  did  not 
prove  to  be  as  much  of  a  pacificator  as  Alma  in- 
tended. She  was  obliged  to  soothe  Carrie  to 
rest  in  some  other  way,  and  she  was  quieted  at 
last  and  went  to  sleep. 

The  days  slipped  rapidly  by,  and  brought  Bob, 
one  noon,  to  the  dinner-table,  saying,  "  O,  folks, 
Cap'n  Granby  wants  to  know  if  you  wouldn't 
like  to  come  down  and  see  the  Andromeda?'1 

"  O — h — h,  yes ! "  shouted  the  children,  and 
their  seniors  were  just  as  anxious  to  go. 

Bob  offered  his  services  as  guide,  and  as  the 
family  ueared  the  wharf  where  the  Andromeda 
was  moored  he  called  attention  to  the  vessel's 
figure-head. 

"There;  that  I  suppose  is  Andromeda,"  he' 
exclaimed. 

"A  dromedary?"  asked  Ted,  who  had  seen 
'  a  menagerie  the  summer  before. 

"  No,  no,  Theodore,"  remarked  his  father,  re- 
calling his  stock  of  learning  amassed  at  "the 
academy,"  and  proceeding  to  spread  out  those 
stores,  "  An-drom-e-da— was  a — sea-monster — " 

He  hesitated  and  looked  at  Alma.  Thought- 
ful daughter !  She  had  not  forgotten  what  she 


HE  CHOOSES  TO  Go.  21 

had  learned  in  the  classical  course  at  the  high- 
school,  graduating  at  the  head  of  her  class,  and 
she  knew  what  a  pitfall  of  a  blunder  he  was 
tumbling  into,  but  she  did  not  remind  him  of  it. 
She  only  said,  "  Now,  children,  we  wont  bother 
father  to  tell  us  that  old  story.  Let  us  talk 
about  the  ship.  That  is  our  first  business. 
Come !  We  will  leave  Andromeda,  and  father 
will  tell  us  by  and  by." 

Sardinius  Walker  was  very  sensitive  on  the 
subject  of  his  classical  knowledge.  He  gave  Alma 
a  look  of  sincere  gratitude,  for  he  knew  by  her 
manner  that  he  had  been  saved  from  some  kind 
of  peril.  She  had  given  him  time  to  hunt  up 
the  facts  about  Andromeda. 

"Now,  children,"  continued  Alma,  "take  a 
good  long  look  at  the  ship.  Bob  says  she  is  the 
best  craft  of  the  kind  afloat." 

"Yes,"  said  Bob  proudly;  "they  say  she  is 
somewhat  old-fashioned,  but  Cap'n  Granby  says 
for  her  work  she  is  one  of  the  best  vessels 
afloat." 

Just  before  them,  neat  as  one  of  the  Oldbury- 
port  houses  after  a  spring  painting,  rose  the  A.n- 
dromeda,  masts  and  spars,  shrouds  and  stays, 
boats  and  anchors,  all  in  good  order,  ready  for 


22  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

splendid  service.  The  vessel  was  bark-rigged. 
She  registered  about  five  hundred  tons,  and 
could  easily  carry  twenty-five  hundred  barrels  of 
oil.  Captain  Granby,  indeed,  had  said  he,  or 
the  Andromeda  rather,  could  carry  three  thou- 
sand barrels.  She  was  built  for  two  purposes. 
One  was  to  go.  Her  bow  was  sharp.  The 
swell  of  her  sides,  their  graceful  curve,  pleased 
every  sailor.  She  was  built  for  something  else. 
She  was  built  to  carry  a  big  cargo.  Her  decks 
had  a  good  width,  and  between  deck  and  deck 
there  was  excellent  stowage. 

"  Now  you  want  to  know  what  we  carry  with 
us,"  said  Captain  Granby  in  response  to  a 
question  from  Mr.  Walker.  "Well,  we  must 
take  boats,  of  course.  Anyway,  we  must  have 
four  boats.  Besides  these  we  have  three  spare 
boats.  Now  I  will  show  you  something  else." 

He  pointed  out  boat  material,  such  as  light 
timber  and  boards.  There  were  stores  to  be 
used  in  repairing  the  ship,  like  extra  rigging  or 
spars  or  sails.  The  Andromeda  also  took 
plenty  of  paint  and  tar.  There  were  boat 
hatchets,  lances,  harpoons,  whale-line,  casks  for 
the  oil  of  the  whales  that  might  be  taken,  cut- 
ting-in  spades,  knives.  The  captain  pointed  out 


HE  CHOOSES  TO  Go.  23 

the  big  iron  pots  for  boiling  the  blubber,  used 
in  the  process  of  "  trying  out." 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  "  we  have  a  big  crew, 
and  we  want  to  feed  them  well,  and  you  may 
want  to  see  what  we  are  going  to  eat.  There! 
"We  have  plenty  of  ship-biscuit,  coffee,  rice, 
beans,  flour,  pickles,  tea ;  and  we  take  pork  and 
beef,  molasses  and  Indian  meal.  We  have 
got  a  quantity  of  canned  goods,  too.  Don't 
mean  to  starve  on  board  the  Andromeda,  I 
tell  ye." 

"  Now,  folks,"  said  Bob  proudly,  "  I  want 
you  to  see  where  I  tie  up — or  expect  to." 

In  the  forecastle  he  pointed  out  the  tiers  of 
bunks,  one  above  another;  and  when  Carrie 
said  :  "  Where  is  yours,  Bobbie  ? "  he  pointed 
out  his  resting-place  for  the  night. 

He  did  not  see  his  little  sister — for  his  back 
was  quickly  turned — as  she  stepped  to  the  berth 
and  hid  something  under  his  mattress.  This 
had  the  approval  of  Alma's  bright  eyes,  closely 
watching  for  an  opportunity  when  Carrie  might 
carry  out  this  pre-arranged  plan  in  which  the 
two  sisters  had  been  interested. 

"  It's  there  where  he  sleeps,"  whispered  Car- 
rie; "there  in  that  long  hole,  and  I  hid  it." 


24  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

Delight  shone  in  her  face,  which  was  patterned 
after  Alma's. 

Captain  Granby  invited  his  visitors  into  his 
cabin,  which  was  plainly  furnished.  In  the  cen- 
ter was  a  table,  whose  surface  was  divided  by 
strips  of  wood  running  lengthwise. 

"  That's  a  funny  way  to  fix  a  table — to  have 
those  pieces  of  wood  going  so,"  said  Billy  to 
Bob. 

"  Well,  Billy,  between  those  long  strips  they 
set  the  dishes,  and  then,  when  the  ship  goes  so — 
up  and  down,  up  and  down — the  dishes  can't  so 
well  slide  off.  And  you  see  those  frames  over- 
head?" 

Billy  looked,  and  saw  rows  of  tumblers  that 
had  been  set  in  holes  cut  in  shelves  hanging 
from  the  ceiling  above  the  table. 

"  There,  Billy,"  said  Bob,  seizing  his  young 
brother,  and  almost  tipping  him  upside  down, 
"  when  the  big  waves  make  the  Andromeda  go 
this  way — up  and  down,  up  and  down — you  see 
we  have  got  things  steadied  somehow,  so  that 
they  won't  spill  out." 

Billy  never  forgot  this  illustration  of  a  ship's 
motion  in  a  rough  sea,  and  on  after-nights  of 
storm  he  would  shiver  as  he  thought  of  his 


HE  CHOOSES  TO  Go.  25 

Bobbie  almost  standing  on  his  head  in  the  in- 
verted relations  of  things. 

"  How  much  of  a  crew  will  you  take,  cap- 
tain ? "  inquired  Mr.  Walker. 

"  Well,  we  shall  carry  over  thirty.  You  see, 
we  must  have  enough  sailors  to  man  four  boats, 
anyway.  Each  will  need  a  crew  of  six,  and  that 
will  make  a  couple  of  dozen  men.  Then  we 
must  have  a  cook  and  a  steward,  and  I  mean  to 
get  a  cabin-boy.  Must  have  a  carpenter,  you 
can  see,  where  boats  are  likely  to  be  injured  by 
the  whales,  and  we  must  have  a  cooper  to  look 
after  our  barrels.  Then  1  want  several  spare 
men  on  hand  to  fill  gaps.  Folks  die  at  sea  as 
well  as  on  land,  and  we  must  think  of  these 
things." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bob's  father  somberly. 

Nobody  seemed  to  care  to  continue  that  part 
of  the  subject,  and  here,  as  a  diversion,  Bob 
asked  his  wondering  brothers  if  they  did  not 
want  to  see  him  "  go  up  the  rigging." 

"  O  yes  ! "  they  cried,  four  big  eyes  assenting 
also. 

They  all  looked  up  from  the  deck  while  Bob 
proudly  leaped  into  the  shrouds,  and  taking  on 
the  swing  of  an  old  sailor,  began  to  climb  up. 


26  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Ah,  he  missed,  his  footing,  and  awkwardly 
wriggled  on  the  shrouds. 

"  Ship  ahoy ! "  sang  out  Horace  Haviland, 
who  was  up  on  the  maintop  looking  down. 
"  Take  a  reef  in  those  legs ! " 

Several  old  whalemen  looked  up  from  the 
deck  and  grinned,  while  a  shudder  went  through 
the  older  members  of  the  Walker  group,  Carrie 
and  Billy  giving  each  a  faint  scream.  Bob 
started  up  again,  and  went  on  without  difficulty. 
He  wanted  to  reach  the  maintop,  where  Horace 
was.  There  are  two  ways  of  approach.  One  is 
by  the  shrouds,  going  outside,  or  "  over  the  top," 
as  sailors  say,  and  the  other  is  easy  and  safe  for 
landsmen,  and,  doubtless  out  of  regard  for  them, 
is  named  "  the  lubber's  hole,"  taking  one  up 
through  a  hole  near  the  mast,  and  then  out 
upon  the  maintop. 

"  I  won't  go  by  that  lubber's  hole,"  said  Bob 
contemptuously,  struggling  up  over  the  top,  lu- 
dicrously squirming,  losing  his  foothold,  then 
regaining  it,  laying  his  hand  in  the  wrong  place, 
struggling  harder,  Horace  Haviland  at  last  rush- 
ing forward,  shouting : 

"Here,  young  shipmate,  give  us  a  flipper! 
You  twist  wuss  than  a  seal  on  a  clay  bank." 


HE  CHOOSES  TO  Go.  27 

As  he  spoke  he  laid  hold  of  Bob,  and,  vigor- 
ously pulling  him  up,  landed  him  on  the  main- 
top. 

The  Walker  circle  was  relieved  to  see  the 
young  sailor  in  the  stout  grasp  of  Horace,  and 
still  more  fully  relieved  when  Bob  was  down  on 
the  deck  again. 

"  I — I  did  it ! "  said  Bob,  trying  to  give  his 
head  a  shake,  as  if  in  triumph. 

"  Guess — guess,  Bob,"  whispered  his  father  to 
the  aspiring  navigator,  "I  wouldn't  try  that 
much  until  I  was  a  little  more  used  to  it." 

This  encouraging  remark  belongs  to  the  same 
class  of  directions  as  that  to  boys  who  are  ad- 
vised to  keep  out  of  water  until  they  know  how 
to  swim. 

When  the  Walkers  were  once  more  at  home, 
Alma  gratified  her  father's  vanity,  and  at  the 
same  time  gave  him  opportunity  for  private 
preparation,  by  proposing  to  him  that  at  supper- 
time  he  should  tell  them  the  story  about  An- 
dromeda. 

"  I  certainly  will,  my  dear,"  said  the  father 
complacently. 

He  busily  consulted  his  old  dust-covered  clas- 
sical dictionary,  and  at  supper-time  remarked : 


28  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"Now,  children,  I  will  tell  you  about  An- 
dromeda." 

All  listened  while  he  very  learnedly  talked 
about  the  ancient  Andromeda. 

"  She  was  the  daughter  of  Cassiopeia,  who  was 
the  queen  of  the  Ethiopians.  Foolishly  the 
mother  said  Andromeda  was  better-looking  than 
the  Nereids,  a  kind  of  beings,  females,  you  know, 
who  lived  —  or  were  supposed  to  live  —  in  the 
water.  Well,  Neptune,  the  god  of  the  sea,  or 
somebody  the  Greeks  supposed  was  ruler  of  the 
sea,  did  not  like  Cassiopeia's  talk.  He  sent  a 
flood  and  a  sea-monster  that  killed  people  right 
and  left;  beasts,  too.  Well,  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  excitement,  and  it  was  announced  that 
there  would  be  no  let-up  in  this  business  until 
Andromeda's  father  had  first  exposed  her*  as  a 
sacrifice  to  the  monster's  appetite.  Poor  An- 
dromeda !  They  took  her  one  day  down  to 
the  sea-shore  and  tied  her  to  a  rock.  There 
they  left  her,  poor  Andromeda!  waiting  for 
the  awful  monster  to  come  out  of  the  sea. 
But  who  should  happen  along  but  Perseus,  a 
brave  fellow,  who  had '  already  gained  a  victory 
elsewhere  over  an  enemy  called  the  Gorgon. 
Perseus  was  not  afraid,  not  a  bit.  He  just 


HE  CHOOSES  TO  Go.  29 

went  to  work,  killed  the  monster,  and  untied 
Andromeda." 

"  O  wasn't  that  jolly  ! "  said  Ted. 

"  Andromeda's  folks  ought  to  have  done  one 
thing  more,'1  suggested  Bob. 

"  What  was  that  ? "  said  the  historian. 

"  Why,  made  him  their  son.  That's  what 
they  generally  do  in  such  stories  —  give  the 
daughter  in  marriage  to  the  one  that  rescues 

O  O 

her." 

"  O,  well,  my  son,  that  is  not  every  thing  in 
this  life." 

Alma  gave  her  brother  a  look  which  meant 
something,  he  well  knew. 

"Alma,"  he  said,  after  supper,  when  they 
were  alone,  "  what  did  you  mean  by  looking  at 
me?" 

"  Why,  Bob,  Perseus  married  Andromeda." 

"  He  did  ?     And  father  forgot  it  ? " 

"  O  well,  you  can't  expect  one  to  remember 
every  thing." 

"  No,  but  I  mean  to  think  of  it  when  I  am 
out  on  the  sea  and  the  figure-head  is  dipping 
into  the  cold  water.  I'll  say  to  myself,  '  The 
real  Andromeda  had  an  easy  time  by  and  by, 
and  got  married.' " 


30  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

That  very  night  there  was  not  a  "Walker  but 
that  dreamed  of  Andromeda.  Alma  saw  the 
vessel  far  out  at  sea.  As  the  bow  dipped  down 
into  the  frothing  billows,  they  seemed  to  change 
to  sea-monsters  that  sprang  upon  poor  Androm- 
eda and  tried  to  pull  her  down  into  the  ocean, 
and  bury  her  forever  in  its  cold  depths.  And 
at  every  such  assault  Bob  would  come  forward, 
like  Perseus  of  old,  and,  looking  down  on  the 
exposed  figure-head,  would  say  some  encourag- 
ing word  to  the  defenseless  Andromeda  and 
drive  away  those  reckless  assailants.  After  this 
dream  came  a  long,  forgetful  space  of  slumber. 
Then  the  dream  returned,  the  sea-monsters  rush- 
ing at  Andromeda,  Bob  standing  in  the  vessel's 
bows  and  driving  them  away.  Suddenly  he 
called — was  it  "  Andromeda,  Andromeda  ? " 

Alma  awoke. 

"Alma!"  cried  a  voice  at  the  foot  of  the 
kitchen  stairs. 

"  O,  father,  is  that  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  dear.    Time  to  be  up." 

"  I  will  come.     Father !  " 

"What?" 

"  Didn't  you  call '  Andromeda  2  •  Thought  I 
heard  somebody." 


HE  CHOOSES  TO  Go.  81 

"Why,  no;  I  said  'Alma!  Alma!'  Guess 
my  story  was  too  much  for  you." 

Sardinius  felt  proud  to  think  his  classical 
knowledge  had  made  such  an  impression  on  the 
family.  He  took  it  also  as  a  deserved  tribute  to 
that  famous  Academy,  the  pride  of  his  younger 
years,  his  honored  "  Alma  Mater." 


32  '  SAILOH-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTEK  III. 

WANTED,    MITTENS. 

"  FTIHEKE,  Bob,"  said  Alma  one  day,  turning 

JL  away  from  the  kitchen  stove.  She  and 
Bob  were  alone  just  then,  Mrs.  Walker  having 
retreated  to  her  chamber,  where,  unseen,  she 
wished  to  shed  a  few  tears  over  Bob's  departure, 
while  the  father,  with  Ted,  Billy,  and  Carrie, 
had  gone  down  to  the  wharf  to  see  the  Androm- 
eda. 

"  There,  Bob ! "  exclaimed  Alma  again. 

"Well,  Alma,  what  is  it  ?" 

"  I  have  forgotten  one  thing.  I  do  believe  I 
am  growing  old."  said  Alma  laughingly,  in  a 
liquid,  rippling  tone  that  old  age  cannot  possi- 
bly reproduce. 

"  O,  no,"  said  Bob  encouragingly. 

"Well,  I  will  tell  you  what,  Bob.  I  will 
make  a  bargain  with  you.  I  want  to  go  out  and 
buy  something,  and  if  you  will  watch  the  her- 
rings in  the  oven  I  will  do  my  errand.  Now, 
don't  let  them  burn." 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  33 

"Alma,  if  I  let  them  burn  you  may  burn 
me." 

Alma  laughed  again.  She  pulled  her  brown 
hood  over  a  lot  of  curls  that  had  a  very  willful, 
independent  way  of  growing,  and  never  yet  had 
been  successfully  imprisoned  by  any  head-dress 
Alma  might  wear.  She  drew  about  her  shoul- 
ders "  mother's  red  shawl,"  worn  by  every  body 
in  the  family  save  the  men-folks.  Then  she 
hurried  up  the  alley  and  came  at  last  to  the  main 
street  of  the  town  and  known  as  Central  Street. 

"  O,  dear ! "  said  Alma,  looking  anxiously  up 
and  down  the  street,  "  what  if  '  Charlie '  should 
be  shut  up !  There  he  is.  I  am  so  forget- 
ful ! " 

Was  she  forgetful  ?  Alma  had  one  of  those 
roomy,  hospitable  natures,  welcoming  every 
body's  care  and  trouble,  and  in  an  apart- 
ment built  to  hold  fifty  it  is  not  easy  to  find 
place  for  eighty.  She  seemed  at  times  to  forget, 
but  it  was  rather  because  this  hour's  wants  were 
so  numerous  that  they  crowded  upon  those  of 
the  previous  hour.  Ted  would  say,  "Alma,  I 
am  hungry,"  or  Carrie  would  moan,  "My  dress 
is  torn,  Alma,"  or  Billy  might  whimper,  "  Al- 
ma, can't  I  go  out-doors?"  On  top  of  these 


34  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

statements  would  come  father's  inquiry,  "  Alma, 
can  we  make  the  butter  last  over  to-morrow  ? " 
and  mother's  wonder,  "Alma,  have  you  an 
idea  where  the  camphor- bottle  has  gone  ? " 

It  is  a  wonder  that  Alma  remembered  as  many 
things  as  she  did,  and  a  greater  mystery  that  she 
did  so  much  actual  work  day  by  day.  What 
helped  her  (and  what  will  help  every  body)  was 
a  disposition  to  accept  all  home-service  as  a 
pleasure.  It  was  her  life  to  do  for  others.  That 
disposition  saves  one  in  work  from  any  unpleas- 
ant friction  which  is  likely  to  interfere  with 
memory,  and  every  thing  else  also.  I  am  not 
describing  a  saint.  Alma  was  just  a  very  nat- 
ural, impulsive,  warrn-hearted  girl,  whom  every 
body  liked.  Her  very  looks  suggested  that  rich, 
bountiful  nature  which  her  name  implied.  She 
was  of  medium  height,  and  rather  full  and 
chubby  in  form.  She  had  a  round  face,  that 
good  health  and  good  spirits  kept  freshly  tinted. 
She  had  dimpled  cheeks  and  a  mouth  that  part- 
ed evenly  and  showed  pretty  teeth.  Her  eyes 
were  very  dark,  and  had  soft,  lustrous  depths, 
that  made  you  think  of  the  sea-water  in  the 
shadow  of  still  nooks  and  corners  of  the  shore- 
ledges.  When  Alma  laughed  and  shook  all  her 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  35 

wealth  of  curls,  it  was  a  comely  sight  to  behold. 
Every  year  Mrs.  Walker  prophesied  she  would 
"surely  die  this  year,"  and  why  she  didn't  I 
cannot  conceive,  unless  it  was  Alma's  resolute, 
cheerful  resistance,  who  would  say,  "  No,  mother, 
I  sha'n't  let  you!"  That  settled  it,  until  the 
next  spring  set  in  with  its  east  winds  and  bilious 
days.  When  Mr.  Sardinius  Walker  had  his 
seasons  of  discouragement,  because  he  had  seen 
a  scowling  creditor  up  in  town,  he  knew  where 
to  hasten  as  soon  as  possible,  and,  finding  Alma, 
lie  would  throw  himself  into  one  of  the  three 
old  rocking-chairs  at  home  and  exclaim,  "  There, 
I've  seen  Bailey  about  that  wood  we  bought, 
and  we  might  as  well  give  up  first  as  last." 

"  No,  father,"  she  would  be  likely  to  say,  "  I 
don't  believe  in  giving  up.  You  will  have  a  job 
at  book-keeping — or — or — 

Then  she  would  mention  nice  little  projects 
for  raising  money,  and  that  appeal  to  Mr.  Sar- 
dinius Walker's  imagination  was  so  much  in 
harmony  with  his  temperament  that  he  would 
leave  Alma's  presence  whistling  away  and  retir- 
ing to  meditate  in  hope  awhile ;  but  the  medita- 
tion was  likely  to  end  in  despondency.  If  it 
possibly  ended  in  a  trial  on  Central  Street  to 


36  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

obtain  a  little  work  as  penman,  such  efforts  were 
not  generally  successful. 

Bob  was  different  from  Alma,  while  resem- 
bling her.  He  had  her  eyes  and  complexion,  but 
his  face  was  long  and  thin.  His  hair  was  dark, 
and  also  straight,  save  at  the  forehead,  where  it 
lay  on  the  clear  white  skin  in  a  single  curl.  He 
was  rather  tall,  and  of  a  muscular  build.  He 
was  not  only  impulsive,  but  often  heedless.  He 
was  very  venturous.  Alma  would  say,  "  There; 
I  am  willing  to  go  away  from  home  and  see 
what  is  outside  by  day,  but  when  night  comes 
I  want  to  be  where  I  can  see  home." 

Bob's  dark  eyes  would  kindle,  and  he  would 
exclaim  enthusiastically,  "  I  want  to  see  the 
world — the  whole  of  it."  Bob  did  not  have  such 
an  abounding  stock  of  good  nature  as  Alma. 
The  latter  could  "get  mad,"  but  she  did  not 
often  indulge  any  such  mood.  People  thought 
Bob  to  be  rather  quick-tempered,  but  he  was 
very  generous  and  social. 

He  was  a  welcome  companion  in  any  of  the 
sports  of  the  young  people,  and  the  older  folks 
made  ready  room  for  his  vivacity  in  their  gath- 
erings. Bob  was  not  afraid  of  work,  while  his 
father  shunned  really  laborious  efforts.  Bob, 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  37 

too,  had  a  laudable  desire  to  succeed.  He  was 
ambitious.  He  determined  he  would  not  be 
like  his  father,  "  bothered  by  debts."  And  yet 
Bob  was  not  careful  in  what  he  spent.  If  he 
came  into  bondage  to  any  creditor  at  the  stores,  it 
did  not  greatly  worry  Bob.  Now  Alma  hated 
debt  and  tried  to  keep  out  of  it.  She  would  go 
without  an  article  rather  than  thereby  run  into 
debt.  Bob  would  go  destitute  as  long  as  he  com- 
fortably could,  and  then  would  say,  "  There !  I 
have  waited  long  enough.  I  am  going  to  have 
that  thing  and  pay — when  I  can.  The  sooner  I 
pay  the  better,  of  course,  but  I  must  have  it." 

To  Bob's  life  there  was  an  aspect  of  unsteadi- 
ness. A  popular  fellow,  gifted  with  certain  no- 
ble qualities,  there  was  a  lack  of  self-control. 
Something  needed  to  be  introduced  into  his 
character — a  rudder  to  hold  the  vessel  to  a 
steady  course.  Hasty  impulses  would  give  him 
trouble  at  times. 

"  O,  it  is  Bob ! "  would  be  the  comment,  if 
not  au  explanation,  volunteered  by  his  friends 
when  he  gave  way  to  some  strange  impulse. 

"  Going  to  sea  will  be  a  first-rate  thing  for 
Bob,"  people  said.  "  It  will  sort  of  trim  the 
ship.  He  is  a  generous  soul." 


38  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

They  did  not  feel  like  criticising  Bob  unless 
they  also  commended  him,  for  somehow  they 
could  not  help  liking  him. 

His  unsteadiness  seemed  to  be  expressed  in 
Bob's  very  gait.  There  was  a  swing  to  it,  a 
careless  swagger  without  its  conceit,  and,  as  he 
inclined  this  way  or  that,  he  might  suddenly 
shoot  into  the  street  to  see  why  the  boys  might 
be  hanging  round  the  cart  of  Billy  Toby,  the 
fish  peddler,  or  he  might  shoot  the  other  way 
and  vault  over  a  fence  behind  which  he  heard 
two  dogs  growling.  He  had  very  little  fear 
about  his  nature,  and  that  made  him  an  attract- 
ive leader  for  venturous  boys  about  the  town. 
He  had  no  bad  habits,  though,  to  make  him  a 
dangerous  leader.  He  did  not  swear,  and  he 
had  not  yet  learned  the  so-called  manly  arts  of 
chewing  or  smoking  or  drinking. 

"Alma  won't  let  me,"  he  would  sometimes 
say.  "  She  is  a  fanatic  about  those  things." 

"  Yes,  Bob,  I  am  a  fanatic  about  those  things," 
Alma  once  declared,  bringing  squarely  down 
upon  the  floor  her  foot,  "  if  to  be  opposed  to 
them  is  fanatfcism." 

"  I  told  you  she  wouldn't  let  me,"  said  Bob 
to  one  who  urged  him  to  take  a  cigar.  "  No, 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  39 

sir ;  I  can't  do  any  thing  till  Alma  says  I 
may." 

Alma's  opinion  had  great  weight  in  the 
"Walker  house,  at  least,  and  Alma's  activity  al- 
most seemed  to  be  the  one  condition  of  the 
life  of  the  household.  Her  agency  was  quite 
important  in  securing  for  Bob's  comfort  the  ar- 
ticle for  whose  sake  she  now  visited  Central 
Street  the  day  before  his  departure.  She  went 
into  a  store,  at  whose  door  and  in  whose  win- 
dow were  paraded  all  kinds  of  men's  furnishing 
goods  and  clothing,  and  those  for  sailors  in  par- 
ticular. The  proprietor  stood  behind  the  coun- 
ter, Mr.  Charles  Habermann,  a  German,  whose 
accessibility  and  sociability  gained  for  him  in 
town  circles  of  business  the  universal  pet  term, 
"  Charlie."  He  was  a  one-armed  emigrant,  who 
gradually  had  got  into  trade,  and  with  the  sail- 
ors especially  was  a  great  favorite.  He  had 
neither  wife  nor  child,  nor  kindred  of  any  de- 
gree, and  his  store,  a  kind  of  curiosity  shop,  re- 
ceived very  largely  his  affection,  and  occupied 
all  his  time.  It  was  wife  and  family  to  him. 

"  O,  Mr.  Habermann,  have  you  mittens  ? " 
inquired  Alma,  in  her  energetic  way,  hurrying 
into  the  store.  » 


40  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

A  short,  thick-set  man,  heavy  and  dark-feat- 
ured, with  a  very  pleasant  voice,  in  a  slow, 
deliberate  way  he  replied  : 

"  O  yes  !  Let — me — see.  Joost — let — me — 
see." 

His  goods  were  disposed  not  in  layers  or  or- 
derly rows,  but  miscellaneous  heaps,  and  a  bun- 
dle of  mittens  might  make  a  nest  on  a  shelf  by 
the  side  of  several  packages  of  pins.  There 
would  have  been  an  annoying  mishap  if  a  hand 
of  flesh  had  been  thrust  inside  a  mitten  and  the 
pins  had  all  gone  to  pricking.  Perhaps  that 
was  the  law  of  association  in  Charlie's  mind — 
joining  mittens  and  pins  together,  one  suggest- 
ing the  other  in  the  above  fashion — and  so  he 
was  moved  to  tumble  them  together  upon  the 
same  shelf. 

"  O  dear ! "  thought  Alma,  who  knew  Char- 
lie's peculiarities  of  business,  "  that  '  joost  let 
me  see '  means  he  has  got  to  hunt  in  this  hay- 
stack, and  there  are  my  herrings  at  home  ! 
They  will— O  dear,  if  Bob  don't  watch  them  !  " 

"Mittensh — mittensh,"  Charlie  was  saying, 
moving  slowly  along  before  his  crowded,  con- 
fused shelves.  "  Where  are  those  init — tensh  ? 
Yas,  I  did  put  dem  up— up— *p — O,  Alma,  you 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  41 

slitop  one  minute,  and  I  will  hab  dem  fery  di- 
rect. Mit — tensh.  What  goesh  wid  mit — tensh? 
O,  pinsh — I  hab  it !  And  where — where  are  the 
pinsh  ?" 

He  had  gone  the  length  of  his  shelves  on  one 
side  of  his  store,  and  now  looked  inquiringly  at 
the  other  side. 

"  O,  Charlie  !  " 

She  stopped.  She  had  forgotten  herself. 
Never  before  had  she  called  him  by  the  name 
that  his  business  acquaintances  gave  him. 

"Excuse — me — Mr.  Habermann,"  stammered 
Alma. 

Charlie's  dark  eyes  brightened  into  diamonds. 
What  lonely  man  would  not  have  been  pleased 
with  Alma's  friendly  use  of  his  first  name  ? 

"  O,  dat  ish  no  matter !  Call  me  Sharlie  al- 
vays.  Yes,  Alma,  alvays." 

"  O,  dear  !"  thought  Alma.  "  These  mittens 
are  making  me  a  lot  of  trouble." 

They  were  destined  to  make  Alma  and  Bob  a 
lot  of  trouble  that  could  not  possibly  have  been 
anticipated,  and  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  make 
any  anticipatory  statement  here,  and  thereby 
gratify  any  reader's  curiosity. 

"  And   there  are  the  herrings ! "    continued 


42  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Alma  in  her  thoughts.  "  O  hurry,  Charlie — Mr. 
Habermaim,  and  get  my  mittens  !  " 

Snapping  his  lingers,  winking  his  eyes,  hum- 
ming snatches  of  tunes,  Charlie  fluttered  before 
his  shelves  like  a  distracted  bee  before  a  thorn 
hedge,  in  which  was  hid  somewhere  a  single 
holly-hock.  After  more  snapping  and  winking 
and  humming,  he  found  at  last  the  pin-and-mit- 
ten  heap. 

"  Dere,"  said  Charlie,  bringing  down  a  big 
bundle,  "  are  some  ob  de  nishest  mittens.1" 

"  They  are  very  thick  and  warm.  They  will 
be  nice  in  cold  weather.  How  much  are 
they?" 

"  Forty-one  shentsh." 

Alma  shrank  back  in  alarm.  She  had  only 
forty.  To  get  the  forty  she  had  raked  and 
scraped  every- where  at  home,  and  to  get  the 
last  penny  had  sent  Billy  on  a  hot  chase  after 
the  ragman  to  sell  a  discarded  old  dress  found 
up  in  the  attic.  Charlie  may  have  detected  her 
alarm.  He  now  said : 

"  Alma,  I  gib  dose  to  you  as  a  present  from 
Sharlie." 

Never  did  this  humble  dealer  in  clothing  for 
the  wardrobe  of  the  hardy  seamen  coming  to 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  43 

Oldburyport  make  a  more  obsequious  bow  to 
any  customer  than  to  Alma. 

"  O — O — I  shall  ruin  you  !  I  will  pay — will 
bring  in  the  other — " 

"  Alma,"  said  Charlie,  firmly  and  sympathet- 
ically, "  when  you  hang  out  close  in  de  yard, 
dese  mittensh — " 

"  O,  thank  you  ;  but  summer  is  coming,  and  I 
sha'n't  need  any  in  hanging  out  clothes.  They 
are  for  Bob,  who  is  going,  you  know,  in  a 
whaler." 

"  O  !  For  Bob  ? "  asked  Charlie,  in  the  tones 
at  first  of  one  who  was  disappointed. 

He  recovered  himself.  He  remembered  that 
Bob  was  Alma's  brother. 

'"  Den,"  he  said,  with  a  pleased  air  again, 
"  'low  me,  Alma,  to  gib  dose  mittensh  to  your 
brudder.  Yen  he  climb  de  mast,  ven  he  go 
for  de  vales,  ven  he  come  shib'rin'  to  de  ship 
from  de  ice  and  shnow,  dey  will  be  fery  goot. 
Dey  are  for  Alma's  brudder." 

It  was  so  pleasant  to  think  that  these  mittens 
were  going,  not  to  a  "  Bob  "  merely,  but  to  Bob, 
the  brother  of  Alma  Walker.  The  blushing  re- 
cipient of  the  gift  knew  not  what  to  say,  but 
confusedly  stood  on  the  outside  of  the  counter, 


44  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

while  the  grinning,  happy  Charlie  bowed  low  on 
the  inside. 

"I — I— I — "  exclaimed  Alma,  "  I — had  rather 

pay—" 

"  Shay  no  more  to  rne,  Alma — " 

"  Bob  will  be  very  much  obliged,  but — I — I — 
hope — t-to — p-pay,"  stammered  Alma. 

"  Shay  notin'  'bout  dat,  not  one  leetle  ting ! 
I  inshist,  I  inshist !  Ven  Bob  'mong  de  vales, 
ven  de  vinds  blow  and  de  seas  roll,  Bob  can  tink 
of  Sharlie.  Dey  vill  do  him  goot." 

Smiling  cordially,  rubbing  his  hands,  Charlie 
followed  Alma  to  -the  door.  There  he  lingered, 
looking  »up  at  the  church-vane  to  see  what 
weather  the  pointers  might  indicate,  then  glanc- 
ing at  the  country  wagons  slowly  rattling  down 
the  street.  He  turned  back  into  the  store,  say- 
ing to  himself,  "  Dose  mitlensh  vill  do  Bob  a 
heap  of  goot." 

He  little  anticipated  the  trouble  they  would 
make  the  sailor-boy.  Alma  went  down  street 
saying,  "  O,  dear,  those  herrings  in  the  stove ! 
I  hope  Bob  has  closely  watched  them,  and  they 
are  not  burned." 

Bob  remained  in  the  house  watching  about 
one  minute  by  the  faded  old  time-piece  ticking 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  45 

feebly  on  the  mantle-piece.  Suddenly  he  heard 
a  sharp,  piercing  cry  in  the  alley,  "  Had-dick ! 
Her-rin' !  Had-dick !  Her-rin' ! "  He  did  not 
stop  to  contemplate  the  state  of  his  pocket- 
book,  whether  it  would  allow  him  to  buy  even 
one  more  herring.  He  only  thought  how  de- 
sirable it  would  be  to  have  half  a  dozen.  Obey- 
ing the  impulse  of  this  first  thought,  and  not 
waiting  that  a  second  might  reach  and  de- 
tain him,  he  dashed  out  of  doors.  He  saw  the 
fish-peddler's  cart  in  the  alley,  and  under  it 
crouched  a  surly  bull-dog,  with  a  heavy  jaw,  fat, 
full  chops,  and  scowling,  dark  eyes.  But  he 
saw  something  else,  and  that  interested  him 
more  than  the  fish-cart  or  the  bull-dog.  Two 
young  men  were  on  the  sidewalk  carrying  be- 
tween them  a  chest  such  as  seamen  use. 

"A  sailor's  chest!"  thought  Bob,  and  then 
he  began  excitedly  to  enumerate  its  features. 
"  Painted  blue,  rope  handles — " 

He  stopped.  One  of  these  young  men  was 
white,  the  other  colored;  a  handsome  mulatto. 
The  first  was  the  older,  and  as  he  turned  his 
head  Bob  did  not  know  whether  it  was  the 
young  man  that  resembled  the  bull-dog  under 
the  cart,  or  the  bull-dog  that  resembled  the 


46  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

young  man.  One  or  both  of  these  sailors  had 
been  drinking,  for  the  trunk  would  sway  vio- 
lently as  one  or  the  other  pulled  it. 

"  Come ! "  shouted  Bull-dog.  "  Who— who— 
who  yer  shovin'  ?  Look  out ! " 

"He  is  drunk !  "  thought  Bob. 

"I  am  not  shoving  any  body,"  retorted  the 
mulatto.  "  You  are  the  one  that  shove ! " 

"  He  is  not  drunk ! "  declared  Bob. 

Bull-dog  now  dropped  his  end  of  the  trunk, 
and  stepped  threateningly  toward  the  mulatto, 
who  was  no  match  for  this  opponent,  even 
though  the  latter  was  not  of  heavy  build. 

"  You — say — you — did  not — shove  ?  "  asked 
Bull-dog. 

"Yes,  I  do." 

Bob  did  not  give  one  more  thought  to  the 
fish-cart  in  the  street,  or  those  fish  in  the 
oven.  He  dearly  loved  an  adventure,  and  still 
more  intensely  he  loved  fair  play.  He  had  seen 
the  drunken  Bull-dog  stagger,  and  that  brought 
him  violently  against  the  trunk. 

"  Don't  yer— say— yer  didn't  shove— that 
trunk— agin  me !  "  wrathf  ully  growled  Bull-dog, 
holding  a  threatening  fist  in  dangerous  proximity 
to  the  mulatto's  nose. 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  47 

"  Yes,  I  will !  "  said  the  latter. 

"  And  he  had  a  right  to  say  it ! "  asserted  Bob, 
quickly  stepping  forward.  "I  saw  it  all.  He 
did  not  shove  you  !  " 

"  Who — who  are  you  ? "  inquired  Bull-dog, 
now  in  a  furious  passion. 

"  No  matter  about  that,"  said  Bob.  "  I  want 
to  see  fair  play." 

Bull-dog  now  was  so  excited  that  he  could  not 
speak.  He  had  sense  enough  aboard  to  see  that 
he  was  no  match  for  the  two  young  men,  and  he 
shrank  back. 

"  O  come,  Steve ! "  said  the  mulatto.  "  There's 
the  cap'n ! " 

A  man  with  a  weather- beaten  face  like  that  of 
a  seaman  was  coming  down  the  alley.  Bull- 
dog eyed  him  a  moment ;  then,  seizing  a  rope 
handle,  he  muttered.  "  Come  along." 

The  mulatto  obeyed,  and  the  two  went  down 
the  alley. 

"  Wonder  if  they  are  going  to  the  Androm- 
eda?" conjectured  Bob,  as  they  turned  toward 
the  wharves. 

No,  they  passed  the  old  whaler.  Bob  fol- 
lowed them,  determined  to  see  that  no  injustice 
was  done  the  mulatto,  for  the  young  men's 


48  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

captain  seemed  to  have  disappeared,  and  with 
him  went  any  promise  of  protection  for  the  mu- 
latto from  that  quarter.  Bull-dog,  though,  stag- 
gered ahead — when  he  did  not  stagger  side-wise 
• — and  did  not  stop  until  they  reached  a  vessel 
lying  at  the  end  of  the  last  wharf  stretching  out 
into  the  river. 

"  O,  that  is  a  schooner  from  one  of  the  Brit- 
ish provinces  going  to  New  York,"  soliloquized 
Bob.  "  I  heard  somebody  say  she  meant  to  drop 
down  with  the  tide  to-night  and  get  out  to 
sea,  if  possible,  before  dark.  Here  comes  the 
cap'n." 

This  officer  now  made  his  appearance  again. 

Bull-dog  and  the  mulatto  were  about  going 
aboard  when  Bull-dog  turned  and  confronted 
Bob,  who  had  closely  followed.  He  had  been 
led  on  by  the  fascination  of  any  chance  for  ad- 
venture, and  was  resolute  to  see  fair  play  given 
to  the  mulatto. 

"  Lemme  look  at  ye  1 "  said  Bull-dog  to  Bob. 
"  I  want  to  take  a  good  long  look  at  ye.  I  want 
to  remember  ye." 

Bull-dog  brought  his  dark,  revengeful  eyes 
close  to  Bob's  face. 

"  Take  a  good,  long  look !  "  cried  Bob.     "  I 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  49 

arn  a  very  handsome  man,  and  you  wont  see  so 
fine  a  picture  again  very  soon." 

"  If  the  cap'n  wasn't  comin',  I'd  spile  that 
pictur  pretty  quick  for  interferin'  with  me,  but 
we  shall  see  each  other  agin." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Bob  cheerfully  and  prompt- 
ly. "  You  need  looking  after." 

"  Dark  eyes,  long  face,  lot  of  hair — "  mur- 
mured Bull-dog. 

"  Now,  if  I  had  known  you  were  going  to  ask 
for  a  look  at  my  face  I  would  have  brought  my 
photograph,  and  you  could  have  kept  it  under 
your  pillow  and  looked  at  it  often  as  you  felt 
like  it." 

The  mulatto  laughed  and  Bull-dog  frowned. 

"  Cap'n  is  close  by,"  whispered  the  mulatto. 
"  Shove  aboard  quick,  Steve." 

Muttering  gloomily,  Bull-dog  crawled  over 
the  vessel's  rail,  almost  tumbling  upon  the  deck ; 
but  he  recovered  himself,  and  was  ready  to  say, 
obsequiously,  "  On  hand,  cap'n,"  when  the  ves- 
sel's master  appeared.  Bob  now  left.  He  went 
off  whistling,  but  opposite  the  Andromeda  he 
abruptly  stopped.  There  he  stood  one  moment, 
the  mouth  still  gaping  after  that  unfinished 
whistle.  Then  he  started  on  a  run,  uttering 


50  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

this  one  word,  "  Herring  ! "  Into  the  house  he 
hurried,  but  an  odor  of  suioke  told  the  story. 
Before  the  oven-door  Alma  was  kneeling,  and 
she  exclaimed : 

"  O,  Bob,  our  supper  is  gone  ! " 

Bob  said  "  Too  bad  ! "  and  looked  bad  ;  but 
that  did  not  bring  the  supper  back. 

They  sat  down,  as  often  before,  to  a  table  on 
which  were  bread  and  butter  and  hot  weak  tea 
— not  the  most  satisfactory  kind  of  a  supper. 

"  Well,  Bob,"  said  Alma,  comfortingly  and 
animatedly,  "you  shall  have  a  good  cup  of  cof- 
fee in  the  morning  before — " 

She  looked  at  her  mother,  and  saw  her  head 
drooping,  and,  checking  herself,  said : 

"  There,  Bob,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  I  have  got 
a  surprise  for  you,  and  I  will  give  it  to  you  this 
moment." 

She  rose,  left  the  table,  and,  returning,  gave 
her  brother  the  mitten  package.  Bob  began  to 
read  its  superscription  : 

"  '  For  Brother  Bob.  Not  to  be  opened  until 
the  first  streak  of  cold  weather  sets  in.  From  a 
friend.'  Ah,  Alma,  thank  you — " 

"  No,  I  didn't  give  it.  That  is  from  Charlie 
Habermann." 


WANTED,  MITTENS.  51 

"  O,  from  Charlie !  All  right !  He  is  a  very 
good  fellow.  I  will  see  that  it  is  packed  in  my 
chest  and  opened  at  the  proper  time.  Put  them 
on  the  shelf  now." 

The  next  day  the  farewell  words  were  spoken 
by  Bob,  and  the  Andromeda  faced  and  sought 
that  ocean  fabled  to  have  sent  a  devouring  mon- 
ster to  her  namesake  of  old. 


52  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

GETTING  HIS  SEA-LEGS  ON. 

t{  /~1  UESS  I  have  got  my  sea-legs  on,"  declared 

vT  Bob  that  very  afternoon  of  the  departure, 
strutting  about  the  forecastle  or  striding  the 
deck,  exceedingly  pleased  that  he  was  not  sea- 
sick. "  I  pity  Ralph." 

Ralph  Winthrop  was  half  a  dozen  months 
older  than  Bob.  He  was  of  graceful  but  slen- 
der build.  As  his  health  was  not  very  firm, 
medical  advice  said — and  that  meant  wise  old 
Dr.  Bates — "  Give  up  your  books  awhile,  Ralph, 
and  go  off'  on  a  sea-voyage  for  a  year  or  two." 

This  was  Squire  Winthrop's  reply  to  this 
medical  advice  when  Ralph  reported  it  to  him : 
"  I  will  think  it  over,  Ralph." 

Ralph  had  been  Bob's  school-mate,  and  always 
liked  him,  though  the  two  were  very  different. 
Morally,  Ralph  was  a  crusader ;  brave,  in  a  seri- 
ous emergency,  to  martyrdom.  Physically,  he 
was  timid.  Hero  and  scarecrow  tenanted  the 
same  body.  He  was  not  responsible,  though, 


GETTING  His  SEA-LEGS  ON.  53 

for  tins  physical  shrinking.  It  came  with  his 
body,  and  Ralph's  soul  disowned  it.  In  his 
personal  appearance  he  would  have  attracted  at- 
tention anywhere  at  once.  He  had  a  refined 
face,  fair  complexion,  and  eyes  of  deep  blue 
that  kindled  with  a  strangely  magnetic  light 
when  he  addressed  any  one.  His  expression 
was  one  of  peculiar  interest — pure,  unselfish, 
trustworthy.  He  had  found  in  Bob  a  champion 
when  boys  at  school  took  advantage  of  Ralph's 
weak  body  and  sometimes  tormented  him. 
Ralph  repaid  Bob's  alliance  with  his  gratitude  in 
public,  and  in  private  with  many  tokens  of  his 
appreciation. 

We  always  take  a  special  interest  in  any 
thing  weak  that  we  may  have  protected.  This, 
in  part,  explained  Bob's  interest  in  Ralph. 
Bob's  protege  was  also,  as  already  affirmed,  a 
noble-hearted,  refined  boy,  a  character  that  will 
interest  any  body  susceptible  to  appreciation  of 
true  worth  of  character.  Ralph  never  disap- 
pointed Bob  in  any  testing  of  character,  though 
he  might  disappoint  him  in  an  hour  when  phys- 
ical bravery  and  daring  might  be  demanded. 

"  Bob,  I — I — am  ashamed  to  feel  so,  but 
somehow  my  old  body  is  a  real  coward,"  Ralph 


54  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

once  said  on  an  occasion  of  faltering  before  a 
danger. 

"  Ralph,"  said  Bob,  who  did  not  thoroughly 
understand  his  comrade's  physical  peculiarities, 
"  all  that  is  needed  to  make  you  brave  as  one  of 
old  Bonaparte's  soldiers  is  to  have  you  go  to  sea. 
That  will  make  a  man  of  you." 

This  remark  was  made  by  Bob  one  day  when 
the  two  boys  were  out  on  the  river  running  by 
Oldburyport.  They  were  rowing  a  dory  be- 
longing to  Squire  Winthrop.  Bob's  companion 
smiled,  taking  good-naturedly  Bob's  rather  pa- 
tronizing remark. 

"  I  can't  explain  it,  Bob,  but  I  am  afraid  in  a 
thunder-storm,  and  shiver  before  lots  of  things. 
Still,  if  I  thought  I  was  called  on  to  do  any 
thing  that  I  knew  to  be  wrong — may  sound  like 
boasting — I  hope  I  should  submit  to  considera- 
ble rather  than  do  it." 

"  I  think  you  would  stand  your  ground  there, 
Ralph,"  said  Bob,  "  though  you  knew  you  might 
have  to  go  to  the  stake  for  it." 

Ralph  modestly  said  he  did  not  "  know  about 
just  that ;"  whereupon  Bob  said  emphatically  he 
did  know  about  that. 

The  boys  were  drawing  the  line  fairly  in  this 


GETTING  His  SEA-LEGS  ON.  55 

case  between  Ralph  as  timorous  and  Ralph  as 
courageous.  He  had  a  physical  shrinking  from 
pain  or  the  risk  of  it,  and  yet  he  had  that  scru- 
pulous regard  for  the  right  out  of  which  you 
get  martyrs  willing  to  stand  and  smolder  at  the 
stake.  It  only  needed  an  appeal  to  Ralph's 
moral  nature  to  give  him  a  victory  of  the  spirit 
over  all  timidity  and  all  cowardice  of  the  flesh. 

After  this  talk  between  the  two  boys,  Ralph 
one  day  asked  Squire  Winthrop  if  he  might  go 
off  in  the  Andromeda. 

"Ralph,"  said  Squire  Winthrop  (he  had  re- 
ceived this  title  from  the  people  on  account  of 
some  office  held  years  ago),  "  I  think  that  it 
would  be  an  excellent  thing.  The  doctor  said 
only  the  other  day  a  sea-voyage  would  be  good 
for  your  health." 

Arrangements  for  Ralph's  departure  as  a 
member  of  the  Andromeda 's  company  were 
quickly  made. 

The  Winthrops  in  Oldburyport  had  the  repu- 
tation of  being  "  rich  as  mud,"  and  previous  to 
Ralph's  departure  Squire  Winthrop  made  an 
interesting  statement  about  property  he  de- 
signed for  Ralph.  The  latter  called  him 
"grandpa,"  though  this  was  not  the  squire's 


56  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

relation  to  him.  Ealph  was  a  distant  relative 
taken  into  the  squire's  home.  The  squire  now 
said  : 

"  Ralph,  you  have  lived  with  me  ever  since, 
ten  years  ago,  your  parents  committed  you  to 
my  care,  and  as  both  are  now  dead  I  feel  like  a 
parent  to  you,  and  have  tried  to  look  faithfully 
after  you." 

"You  have  done  all  that,  grandpa,"  said 
Ralph  gratefully. 

"  I  hope  so.  Now  that  you  are  going  away,  I 
feel  peculiarly  my  loneliness." 

Squire  Winthrop  was  a  widower.  His  home 
was  managed  by  Mrs.  Walker,  a  cousin  to  Sar- 
dinius,  and  known  by  Bob  and  Alma  as  "  Aunt 
Mary."  Since  Ralph  was  the  only  member  of 
the  squire's  family  at  all  related  to  him.  the 
squire  felt  his  loneliness.  He  now  continued : 

"  I  know  that  I  am  an  old  man.  While  I 
hope  that  I  may  be  alive  when  you  return,  yet 
at  my  time  of  life  there  is  great  uncertainty. 
I  shall  make  my  will,  Ralph,  so  as  to  protect 
your  interests,  and  I  want  you  to  know  now 
that  it  is  my  purpose  to  give  you  what  we  call 
'the  brick  block.'  My  will  will  be  deposited 
with  Lawyer  Hatch,  who  will  be  my  executor. 


GETTING  His  SEA-LEGS  ON.  57 

I  want  you  to  know  these  things  before  you  go 
away,  Ralph,  though  I  hope  when  you  come 
back  you  will  find  me — " 

Squire  Winthrop  ceased.  Tears  glistened  in 
the  old  man's  eyes.  Ralph  was  very  dear  to 
him. 

"  Grandpa,  you  are  very  kind  to  speak  of  this. 
I  hope  nothing  will  happen,  and  that  we  shall 
go  on  with  our  home.  You  have  always  done 
every  thing  for  me — " 

"  O,  don't  say  any  thing  about  that.  It  is  the 
future  I  want  to  care  for.  My  thoughts,  iny 
blessing,  my  prayers  will  go  with  you,  Ralph." 

It  seemed  as  if  these  gave  a  strong  push  to  the 
Andromeda,  now  speeding  over  the  sea. 

Ralph  and  Bob,  that  afternoon  of  the  depart- 
ure, under  the  swollen  sails  had  been  talking 
about  home,  their  friends,  the  boys  at  school  or 
in  the  stores,  that  they  had  known. 

"  Well,"  said  Bob,  who  felt  that  he  had  his 
"  sea-legs  on,"  and  was  striding  about  in  a  digni- 
fied, ambitious  way — "  well,  Ralph,  we  must  do 
our  best.  Don't  want  people  to  say,  you  know, 
that  we  didn't  come  up  to  the  scratch." 

"It  looks,  Bob,  as  if  we  ought  to  do  that, 
though  I  begin — " 


58  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Bob,  eying  sharply 
Ralph's  face,  which,  he  thought,  looked  rather 
pale.  "  Seasick,  boy  ?  Don't  say  so !  Get 
into  your  berth !  I  have  just  made  up  my  mind 
that  I  wont  be  seasick." 

"  O,  I  am  going  to  grin  and  bear  it,  what- 
ever comes  along." 

"What  if  Roaring  Ben  should  come  along? 
Grin  and  bear  that  ? " 

Roaring  Ben  was  the  second  mate.  Bowles 
was  his  surname,  but  no  one  ever  said  "Ben 
Bowles;"  it  was  "Roaring  Ben."  His  voice 
was  so  prominent  that  the  crew  could  not  well 
think  of  any  thing  else  than  a  wind  in  identify- 
ing and  naming  him. 

"  It's  cither  a  nor'-wester  or  '  Roarin'  Ben,' ': 
an  old  veteran  of  the  forecastle  said  once  when 
the  sailors  were  discussing  the  meaning  of  a  big 
noise. 

"  O,  well,  '  Roaring  Ben '  would  be  harmless 
if  he  didn't  have  any  work  for  us,  Bob." 

"Of  course.  How  do  you  feel  now?  Any 
more  sick  ?  Feel  pale,  boy  ? " 

"  Do  I  look  so  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  but  that  you  do  look  a  little 
suspicious.  However,  '  grin  and  bear  it '  is  the 


GETTING  His  SEA-LEGS  ON.  59 

advice  of  an  experienced  navigator  on  board  this 
ship!  Do  as  he  says,  unless  you  will  let  me 
carry  you  to  your  berth." 

"Go  away!  Koaring  Ben  will  be  along. 
Say !  You  don't  suppose  he  would  send  us  up 
into  the  rigging  the  first  day?  Awful,  if  he 
should  !  How  could  I  get  up  there ! " 

"  Grin  and  bear  it,  young  man ;  grin  and  bear 
it.  I  have  been  practicing  on  climbing.  Guess 
I  could  make  out." 

He  had  been  practicing.  There  was  no  high 
point  in  the  vicinity  of  Bob's  home  which  he 
had  not  tried  to  reach.  He  had  climbed  over 
the  shed-roof  and  that  of  the  next  shed  on  a 
neighbor's  lot.  One  day  his  mother  had  gone 
up  garret  to  overhaul  some  old  clothing.  She 
climbed  the  stairway  leading  to  the  scuttle,  and 
she  raised  it  to  admit  more  light. 

"  Did  I  ever ! "  she  exclaimed,  dropping  the 
scuttle  suddenly.  "  If  there  isn't  Bob." 

Yes,  the  first  obj  ect  seen  was  Bob's  face !  He 
had  climbed  the  house-roof,  and,  crawling  along 
the  ridge-pole,  had  reached  the  scuttle  when  his 
mother  chanced  to  open  it. 

"  Here  I  am  !  "  he  shouted,  raising  the  scuttle. 

"  There,  Bob,"  said  his  mother,  "  I  expect  next 


60  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

to  see  you  on  the  church-vane,  sitting  across 
that." 

"  No,  mother,  you  will  see  me  going  to  the 
mast-head  with  ease,  just  because  I  have  been 
practicing  for  it.  No  other  way,  you  know." 

Having  practiced,  he  supposed  that  on  board 
the  Andromeda  there  would  not  be  the  least 
difficulty  in  going  up  the  shrouds  and  reaching 
any  point  of  the  rigging. 

"  Wish  I  wasn't  so  timid  !  "  exclaimed  Ralph. 

"  Follow  me  ! "  said  Bob  proudly.  "  If  you 
feel  seasick,  get  on  my  back  when  up  aloft.  O, 
we  sha'n't  have  to  go  aloft ! " 

On  board  ship,  though,  no  one  can  with  con- 
fidence anticipate  an  easy  time.  The  wind  fresh- 
ened, and,  as  it  looked  very  squally  toward  night, 
Roaring  Ben,  whose  watch  it  was,  thought  it 
advisable  to  shorten  sail.  His  voice  bellowed 
forth  its  commands,  and  then  whom  did  he  see 
shrinking  into  one  corner,  hoping  that  he  would 
not  send  them  aloft,  though  outwardly  trying  to 
look  brave  ? 

"  Ah,  boys,  up  with  you !  Just  bear  a  hand 
there !  Up  with  you  !  "  shouted  the  mate. 

"  Where,  sir  ? "  Ralph  meekly  ventured  to 
inquire. 


GETTING  His  SEA-LEGS  ON.  61 

"  Main  top-sail !  "  roared  Ben.  "  Where's 
your  ears  ?  Lay  aloft ! " 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir ! "  replied  Bob,  promptly 
springing  into  the  rigging. 

"  O,  dear,"  groaned  Ralph,  awkwardly  follow- 
ing. "  "Where's  the  main  top-sail  ?  " 

He  had  been  learning  the  parts  of  a  ship,  but 
his  memory  suddenly  seemed  to  have  deserted 
him.  However,  he  followed  Bob. 

"  Say ! "  bawled  the  mate,  who  at  first  had 
not  closely  watched  the  execution  of  his  order  to 
the  boys,  so  multiplied  were  his  duties.  "  That 
isn't  the  mainmast !  "• 

O,  what  sheepish  boys  crawled  down  the  rig- 
ing  !  Bob  had  as  usual  been  more  anxious  to  go 
quick  than  to  go  right,  and,  obeying  his  first  im- 
pulse, had  climbed  the  shrouds  nearest  him. 
Consequently,  he  had  started  up  the  rigging 
of  the  foremast.  Ralph  was  laughing.  Bob, 
though,  looked  mad  enough  to  eat  Roaring  Ben. 
After  all  his  practice,  to  think  he  should  go  up 
the  wrong  mast !  However,  he  rectified  his 
error,  went  up  the  right  shrouds,  reached  the 
right  yard,  and  then,  clinging  for  "  dear  life,"  as 
Ralph  said,  the  two  boys  tried  to  shorten  sail. 
They  had  an  abundance  of  company,  so  that 


62  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

their  duty  was  not  a  solitary  one,  but  what  an 
experience ! 

There  was  the  sea  roughening  every-where 
around  the  Andromeda,  while  the  numberless 
foaming  crests  of  the  waves  were  like  white, 
angry  faces  lifted  out  of  the  sea.  In  the  midst 
of  this  uneasiness,  below  his  feet,  was  a  vessel's 
deck  that  Ralph  once  ventured  to  look  down 
upon,  and  how  he  did  wish  himself  safely  estab- 
lished there !  He  did  not  look  a  second  time, 
for  his  head  was  beginning  to  swim.  Up  to 
the  mast-head,  up  to  the  sky — covered  with  tur- 
bulent clouds — he  turned  his  eyes,  and  his  self- 
possession  returned.  He  saw  several  sailors  on 
his  yard,  and  Bob  was  next.  They  all  were 
gripping  the  fluttering  sail,  energetically  trying 
to  secure  it.  But  was  Bob  slipping?  Ralph 
never  could  exactly  tell,  and  Bob  never  would 
allow  that  he  was  slipping,  but  while  Ralph 
clung  with  one  arm  he  threw  another  about 
Bob,  and  wished  they  both  were  five  hundred 
miles  inland. 

"  I  feel  miserably,"  said  Ralph. 

"  Guess,  boys,  we  can  do  without  you,"  shouted 
a  kindly  voice,  "  and  you  have  made  a  good  be- 
ginning. Let  me  have  your  place." 


GETTING  His  SEA-LEGS  ON.  63 

It  was  Horace  Haviland.  Ralph  was  entirely 
willing  to  resign  his  position  to  Horace,  and  he 
crawled  back  out  of  the  way,  followed  by  Bob. 

"  What's— what's— the  matter,  Bob?"  said 
Ralph,  looking  into  a  very  pale  face.  "  You — 
you  sick  ?  This  —  old  —  thing  —  tosses  so  —  I 
can't—" 

'k  What's  —  what's  —  the  matter  with  you  ? " 
said  Bob,  who  was  just  above  Ralph  on  the 
shrouds,  and  now  looked  down  into  a  ghastly 
face.  "You  got  —  a  —  touch  —  of  —  sickness ? 
Hadn't  we  better  go — down — " 

"  Down — to — the  deck  ?  O — hold  on — just 
till  Horace — and  the  others  get  through — and — 
we — will  go — with  them,"  pleaded  Ralph.  "  If 
we  don't,  that  hurricane  of  a  Ben  will  send  us 
— up  again — " 

"  Well,"  said  Bob,  mournfully ;  adding,  "  I 
feel—" 

"  The  way — I  feel,  probably.  Don't  say  any 
thing.  Grin — " 

"  And  bear  it,"  was  the  heroic  finish  that  Bob 
gave  to  the  words  of  Ralph. 

Two  green  boys  up  in  the  rigging  of  a  ship, 
tossing  on  a  sea  where  not  an  inch  of  land 
was  in  sight,  under  a  sky  that  the  clouds  cov- 


64  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

ered  and  the  night  soon  would  darke'n — two  boys 
beginning  to  feel  that  there  was  a  sea  stirring 
inside  of  them — were  they  to  be  envied  ? 

"  Ralph,"  sang  out  Bob,  "  I — I've  got  to  go 
down — " 

"  Roaring  Ben  will  send  us  up — " 

"  Down  with  you  ! "  shouted  Horace  Havi- 
land ;  "  that  sail  is  reefed.  Down,  boys." 

It  seemed  to  the  boys  as  if  Horace's  rough 
voice  made  the  sweetest  possible  music  in  all 
the  world,  and  down  they  crawled,  their  heads 
drooping,  just  clinging  with  their  hands,  and 
putting  their  feet — somewhere — and  feeling  so 
wretchedly  that  the  grimmest  old  enemy  would 
have  been  moved  to  quick  compassion.  They 
staggered  into  the  forecastle,  and  turned  at  once 
into  their  bunks,  to  lie  there  in  misery,  and  long- 
ingly think  of  home. 


AT  THE  WALKEK  HOME.  65 


CHAPTER  Y. 

AT  THE  WALKER  HOME. 

DID  two  seasick  sailor  boys  wish  themselves 
at  home  ?  How  gladly  those  at  home  would 
have  welcomed  them  if  returning  that  day ! 

"  Didn't  think  we  should  miss  Ralph  quite  so 
badly,"  said  Squire  Winthrop  to  his  housekeeper, 
trying  to  smile  as  he  spoke. 

"  House  seems  like  a  tomb,"  replied  Aunt 
Mary ;  a  woman  of  nerve  and  energy,  tall,  dark, 
wearing  spectacles. 

"  O,  dear  !  "  groaned  Mrs.  Walker,  striving  to 
be  brave,  but  at  last  yielding  to  her  mood,  and 
bandaging  her  face  with  a  big  white  handker- 
chief, "  I  knew  my  toothache  would  come  on  if 
Bob  left." 

"  It  looks  terribly  homesick  down  in  the  dock 
where  the  Andromeda  was,"  Father  Walker  re- 
ported to  Alma.  "  If  I  had  known  how  it 
would  be  with  Bob  gone  I  never  would  have 
consented  to  his  going  off.  How  do  you  feel 
about  it,  Alma  ? " 


66  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

It  was  Alma's  nature  to  feel,  and  then  in  a 
courageous  way  to  bravely  accept  the  situation 
and  endeavor  to  make  the  best  of  it.  She  relied 
very  much  on  Bob.  When  her  mother's  nerves 
were  troublesome  Bob  could  quiet  them.  That 
the  impulsive,  restless  Bob  should  ever  have 
been  like  a  narcotic  may  have  seemed  strange, 
but  then  "  nerves  "  are  strange  things  any  way. 
When  Mrs.  Walker  said  that  hers  were  "  a-jump- 
in',"  Bob  could  somehow  subdue  them.  Then 
he  was  helpful  to  Alma.  When  the  father  for- 
got, as  he  often  did,  to  bring  home  flour,  meal, 
or  meat,  Bob  was  the  one  to  spring  up  and  rush 
to  the  stores  on  Central  Street.  Besides,  he 
would  bring  Alma  any  little  earnings  he  might 
receive,  and  only  Alma  knew  how  helpful  they 
were.  Bob  also  was  such  a  social  body — so 
noisy,  making  his  whistle  echo  all  over  the 
house,  and  his  shout  echo  all  about  it,  that  the 
place  did  seem  very  empty  now.  When  all  had 
gone  to  bed  that  night,  Alma  lingered  before 
the  kitchen  fire  and  wondered  where  Bob  was. 
She  heard  the  wind  sigh  down  the  lane,  and  she 
fancied  how  it  might  be  out  at  sea.  Then  she 
thought  of  the  burdens  sure  to  come  upon  her 
shoulders  now  that  Bob  was  gone.  O  how  they 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  67 

multiplied,  and  not  only  seemed  to  drop  upon 
her,  but,  as  if  animated  and  alive,  seemed  to 
rush  at  her!  "I  am  the  flour  barrel ;  fill 
me!"  said  one.  "I  am  the  stove-hod;  give 
me  some  coal !  "  said  another.  "  I  am  the  milk 
bill ;  pay  me  ! "  said  a  third.  "  We  are  the  shoes 
Billy  has  been  wearing  out  at  the  toes ;  mend 
us  1 "  cried  a  fourth  party.  "  And  you  the  rent 
bill  ?"  thought  Alma  as  she  saw  another  intruder 
fluttering  before  her.  "  O,  dear,  no,  I  -wont 
sigh.  To-morrow  is  Sunday,  and  I  am  going  to 
have  rest."  "  But  Monday — what  then  ? "  all 
the  bills  seemed  to  shout.  "  Monday  is  coming." 

"  Well,  I  can't  see  as  far  ahead  as  Monday," 
replied  Alma,  who  believed  in  taking  what 
somebody  has  called  short  looks. 

Blessed  is  it  to  take  a  look  ahead  that  carries 
us  into  the  midst  of  Sunday,  that  truce  with 
care,  that  resting-place  in  the  up-hill  climb,  that 
fuller  chance  for  a  talk  with  God  and  a  leaning 
upon  his  strength. 

That  Sunday  was  such  a  house  of  comfort  for 
Alma!  To  the  dear  old  church,  whose  walls 
were  so  overgrown  with  the  associations  of  wor- 
ship, she  took  a  request  that  the  pastor  might 
remember  those  who  had  gone  to  sea. 


68  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  O  yes,"  said  fatherly  old  Mr.  Tappan,  "  I 
was  going  to  remember  those  who  had  gone  in 
the  Andromeda" 

It  was  raining  when  Alma  went  home  from 
the  evening  service,  the  night  was  dark,  and  up 
the  river  came  the  cry  of  the  sea.  After  the 
prayer  for  those  on  board  the  Andromeda,  the 
vessel,  to  Alma's  sight,  sailed  not  in  darkness 
and  wind  and  rain,  but  across  a  great  space  of 
peaceful  sea,  and  amid  rich,  golden  sunshine. 
The  next  morning,  though,  was — Monday,  and 
there  was  the — "  rent  bill." 

u  Father,  I  don't  suppose  you  know  of  any 
money  anywhere  for  the  rent  ? "  asked  Alma. 

"  Kent  ? "  said  Father  Walker,  who  had  just 
returned  from  an  unsuccessful  trip  to  Central 
Street  after  a  job. 

He  spoke  with  a  bewildered  air.  All  color 
seemed  to  leave  his  face  as  he  said  : 

"  Kent  ?  There  !  What  shall  we  do  ?  You 
see  I  didn't  get  any  thing  this  morning,  and — " 

Alma  looked  down  and  spoke  slowly  : 

"  I  think  I  must  do  what  I  don't  want  to  do, 
go  to  see  our  landlord  and  ask  him  to  give  us  a 
little  more  time." 

"  Alma,  child,  if — if — you  will,  I'll  bless  you, 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  69 

and  I  know  he  won't  refuse  you,"  enthusiastic- 
ally cried  Father  "Walker. 

He  then  sat  down  to  his  breakfast  contentedly, 
and  thought  no  more  about  rent. 

"Alma  will  fix  that,"  he  had  affirmed  with 
assurance. 

After  breakfast  Alma  said  : 

"  It  is  a  bad  matter,  and  the  sooner  it  is  over 
the  better  it  will  be,  and  I  will  go  at  once." 

She  hurried  up-stairs  to  get  the  hat  that, 
through  re-fitting  and  re-trimming  and  great 
care,  had  been  her  "best"  for  four  or  five  sea- 
sons. She  halted  in  her  room  a  few  minutes. 
It  was  a  rest  to  her  to  fall  on  her  knees  and  tell 
God  her  perplexity,  and  ask  for  that  guiding 
Hand  which  had  so  often  led  her  through  in- 
tricate ways. 

"  He  has  helped  me  so  many  times,"  she  mur- 
mured, "  that  I  don't  believe  this  will  be  too 
hard  for  him." 

Alma  had  a  child's  ready  belief  that  somehow 
her  Father  in  heaven,  that  great  Friend,  who 
is  never  wearied  with  the  sound  of  oft-coming 
feet,  could  and  would  help  her  now.  That  prayer 
was  like  a  breath  of  the  pure  outer  air  to  one 
who  has  been  shut  up  day  after  day  to  the  at- 


70  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

mosphere  of  the  sick  room.  She  left  the  house 
and  passed  up  into  Central  Street. 

"  There  is  that  old-fashioned  house  empty 
again,"  thought  Alma. 

It  was  an  antique  wooden  house,  reputed  to 
be  one  of  the  oldest  in  town,  and  around  it  hung 
a  rich  drapery  of  old-time  stories.  One  corner 
had  been  modernized  sufficiently  to  permit  the 
building  out  of  a  bay-window  on  the  first  floor. 

"  There  it  is,  looking  at  me  again,  and  seem- 
ing to  say,  'What  a  good  chance  this  is  for 
you  ! '  "  thought  Alma. 

So  often  perplexed  to  know  what  she  possibly 
might  do  to  increase  the  income  of  the  family, 
she  sometimes  had  had  a  dream  about  this  old 
house. 

"If  I  could  live  in  that  house,"  she  now  said 
to  herself,  repeating  the  substance  of  her  dream, 
"  I  could  keep  a  little  store  and  display  my  goods 
in  that  bay-window.  There,  that  will  do  to  go 
with  father's  efforts  to  get  a  job.  We  will  let 
that  go,  and  think  about — rent.  O,  dear!  " 

Next  to  the  old  house  was  "the  brick  block." 
This  was  Ralph's  expected  inheritance.  It  was 
the  largest  structure  of  brick  in  the  town,  and 
that  fact  had  given  it  the  title  it  bore.  Nobody 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  71 

said  "Winthrop's  Block,"  but  "the  brick 
block." 

"  If  father  could  only  be  employed  by  those 
in  its  offices,  wouldn't  it  be  nice ! "  thought  Al- 
ma. "Then  we  could  get  along.  No  use  to 
wish!" 

She  passed  the  brick  block,  and  turned  up  a 
little  court  in  whose  rear  rose  a  mansion,  not 
stylish,  but  substantial  and  in  good  taste,  fronted 
by  a  garden  where  the  buds  on  the  trees  were 
rapidly  swelling  and  getting  up  their  pennants 
for  springes  grand  flag-raising  in  forest  and 
field. 

Alma  hastened  through  the  garden,  ran 
up  a  flight  of  stone  steps,  and  was  received 
by  a  servant,  who  showed  her  into  a  library, 
and  she  there  waited  her  landlord's  appear- 
ance. 

"  Ah,  Alma ! "  exclaimed  Squire  Winthrop  as 
he  entered.  He  was  a  tall,  stately  man,  with  a 
deep,  impressive  voice.  He  was  not  only 
crowned  with  his  white  hairs,  but  with  the  re- 
spect of  all  the  Oldburyport  people.  "  You  are 
the  very  one  I  wanted  to  see,  Alma." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  thought  Alma.  "  He 
wants  his  rent." 


72  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

She  began  to  say,  "I — I — "  Somehow  her 
breath  seemed  to  have  left  her. 

"  Stop  one  minute !  I  will  tell  you  what  is 
on  my  mind,"  said  Squire  Winthrop.  "You 
know  the  '  old  house,'  now  empty,  next  to  the 
brick  block  ? " 

Alma  began  to  breathe  more  easily,  and  said, 
"  O,  yes,  sir  1 " 

"  Well,  I  want,"  he  said  smilingly — "  to  come 
at  once  to  my  point — I  want  you  to  move 
into  it!" 

Did  Alma  hear  aright  ?  She  almost  lost  her 
breath  again  in  an  amazement  of  joy. 

"Not  move  into  that  old-fashioned  house  I 
have  always  liked  ? " 

"Not  only  move  in,  but  stay  in." 

"  And  keep  store  ? " 

"  Store  ? "  he  asked  looking  puzzled. 

"  Why,  I  have  thought  how  nice  a  store-win- 
dow that  bay-window  would  make — " 

"Store?" 

"  Fancy  goods,  ribbons,  pins,  and  needles — " 

"  And  you  keep  it  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Capital!" 

"  O,  you  are  so  good !    But — " 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  73 

Her  countenance  fell.  She  thought  of  that 
serious  subject — "  rent."  He  guessed  her  mean- 
ing. 

"  About  the  rent  ?  Well,  it  occurred  to  me 
that  for  the  rent  your  father  might  be  willing 
to  be  janitor  of  the  brick  block.  That  means 
to  open  arid  close  each  day  the  door  leading  up 
to  the  offices  and  hall,  sweep  down  the  main 
stair- way,  and  look  after  any  of  the  offices  that 
needed  him,  open  and  close  the  hall  when  used. 
For  the  care  of  the  hall,  the  heating  and  sweep- 
ing, he  would  have  extra  pay  according  to  the 
nights  it  might  be  used.  He  could  do  it,  I 
think,  and  attend  also  to  any  work  he  might  get 
outside.  You  could — " 

"  You  are  so  kind,  I — " 

She  stopped.  She  suddenly  thought  about 
the  rent  of  the  present  home  that  had  not  yet 
been  paid,  and,  after  all  the  kindness  of  the 
squire,  it  did  seem  too  bad  to  tell  the  old  gen- 
tleman that  she  had  not  brought  him  his 
due.  There  sat  Alma,  her  head  drooping  like 
a  flower  suddenly  wilted,  her  eyes  cast  down, 
her  hands  clasped  in  her  lap,  and  a  flush  of 
shame  and  embarrassment  overspreading  her 
fair  cheeks. 


74:  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"Are — are  not  you  well?"  asked  the  squire 
solicitously. 

"  O,  yes ! "  she  said,  not  raising  her  head. 
"But — but,  Squire  Winthrop,  it  seems  too  bad, 
after  your  kindness,  to  say  that  the  rent  is  not 
ready  to-day,  and  to  ask  you  for  a  few  days 
more  time?" 

"  O,  that's  it !  We  can  fix  that,"  said  the 
squire  promptly. 

The  squire's  pleasant,  ready  assurance  had  an 
effect  like  that  of  a  bath  of  water  on  a  drooping 
plant,  and  Alma  raised  her  head. 

"  O,  you  are  so  good  ! " 

"  O,  not  at  all !  That  is  all  right.  Now,  you 
go  home  and  talk  this  over  with  your  father  and 
mother,  and  let  me  know  —  to-morrow,  say? 
Your  father  will  want  to  see  me,  too.  The  man 
who  has  been  janitor  at  the  brick  block  leaves 
in  a  week,  so  that  his  successor  must  be  ready 
to  go  on  duty  at  once,  or  very  soon." 

How  Alma  went  home,  on  feet  or  wings,  along 
Central  Street,  or  by  a  back  way  or  not — I 
don't  think  she  knew.  She  went  very  quickly, 
and  she  went  in  a  flutter.  That  was  all  she 
could  report  about  the  trip  home.  What  she 
told  those  at  home  set  them  in  a  flutter  as  great 


AT  THE  WALKEK  HOME.  75 

as  her  own.  Father  Walker  called  on  the  squire 
soon  as  he  could  get  inside  his  best  coat  and 
pants.  Mrs.  "Walker  put  on  a  faded  sun-bonnet 
and  hurried  off  to  see  "  Aunt  Mary."  It  was 
the  first  time  her  "  nerves "  had  permitted  her 
to  make  "  a  call "  for  a  year.  In  her  confusion 
she  tied  the  strings  of  the  old  sun-bonnet  so 
tightly  that  when  she  arrived  at  Aunt  Mary's 
sitting-room,  in  the  rear  of  Squire  Winthrop's 
library,  the  tightly -drawn  strings  gave  her 
flushed  face  a  half-hung  look.  It  was  all  settled 
within  an  hour,  and  the  janitor-elect  strutted 
down  street  as  if  he  had  unexpectedly  come  into 
possession  of  Squire  Winthrop's  magnificent 
brick  block  itself. 

"  We  move  next  week,"  said  Mrs.  Walker  to 
Alma,  when  she  returned  home  ;  "  and  I  am  glad 
I  feel  so  strong.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  move  the 
furniture  myself." 

"  Good,  mother,  good !  O,  if  Bob  only  knew 
it !  "  cried  Alma  enthusiastically. 

Alma  soon  went  up  to  Squire  Winthrop's,  for 
he  had  sent  her  word  that  he  wanted  to  see  her. 

"I  thought,  Alma,"  remarked  the  squire, 
"  that  I  would  like  to  go  over  the  house  with 
you  and  tell  you  something  about  it." 


76  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  It  is  just  what  1  wanted,  Squire  Winthrop ; 
and  could  mother  come  too  ? " 

"Why,  yes,  certainly;  but  I  thought  she  was 
sick." 

"  She  was  sick  ;  but  somehow  this  makes  a  new 
woman  of  her.  It  has,"  said  Alma,  "  awakened 
a  strange  interest,  a  new  kind  of  energy  in  mother. 
She  has  been  up  here." 

"  I  did  not  know  it.  The  town  doctors  ought 
to  get  hold  of  this  fact,  and  if  they  did  their 
patients  might  get  hold  of  less  medicine.  There 
is  in  every  physical  body  some  power  to  repair 
waste,  and  one  province  of  the  doctor  is  to  get 
that  power  to  work,  and,  if  weak,  to  strengthen 
it.  Medicine  must  be  discriminatingly  given, 
and  any  superfluous  administration  is  not  only 
thrown  away,  but  worse  even.  However,  that 
is  not  seeing  the  old  house,  and  soon  as  your 
mother  comes — to-morrow,  say,  for  that  will  rest 
her — we  will  look  it  over." 

Mrs.  Walker,  though,  wanted  to  go  that  very 
day,  and  went.  The  old  house  was  a  so-called 
"  double-house,"  a  long,  wide  hall  dividing  it. 
This  hall  extended  from  the  street  in  front  to  a 
small,  old-fashioned  garden  in  the  rear.  At 
the  right,  as  you  entered  from  the  street,  was 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  77 

the  bay-window  in  the  front  room  of  a  suite 
of  two. 

"  Double  parlors,"  thought  Alrna  ;  "  but,  if 
the  squire  still  is  willing,  I  will  have  a  store  in 
the  front  one." 

On  the  other  side  of  the  hall  were  two  rooms 
that  the  family  could  occupy  for  living  pur- 
poses. 

"  A  sitting  room  in  front  and  kitchen  in  the 
rear,  mother  ? "  asked  Alma. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it,"  replied  Mrs.  "Walker,  accus- 
tomed to  defer  to  her  daughter's  opinion. 

"  Nice  room  for  a  kitchen  especially,"  said  the 
squire,  pointing  to  the  back  room.  Outside  of 
one  of  its  windows  stood  a  small  apple-tree,  in 
blossom  now,  its  branches  seeming  to  be  crowded 
with  pure,  white  faces  coming  out  of  some  blessed 
land  to  give  Alma  and  her  mother  a  welcome. 
Up-stairs  the  room  was  divided  into  smaller 
apartments,  connected  by  cozy  passage  ways. 
There  was  a  hall  on  the  second  floor  corre- 
sponding with  that  below,  and  between  the  two 
floors  was  a  broad,  gently  sloping  stairway.  Its 
balustrade  was  of  an  old-fashioned  type,  but  the 
structure  was  still  strong.  The  wall  paper — 
one  noticed  it  as  he  descended  the  stairs — was 


78  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

covered  with  palm-trees,  so  that  on  a  hot  day 
there  was  an  agreeable  illusion  of  coming  down 
into  a  palm  grove.  On  the  second  floor  the 
scenery  was  different.  There  were  big  fleets  of 
ships  forever  anchored  on  the  paper  of  the 
upper  hall.  On  the  third  floor  was  "  a  magnifi- 
cent garret,"  as  Alma  termed  it.  From  its  front 
window  you  could  look  over  the  low  roof  of  a 
block  of  stores  opposite,  and  then  out  upon  the 
river  winding  toward  the  sea.  Alma  and  her 
mother  had  a  morning  view  of  the  river  and 
harbor.  The  sun  was  still  trying  to  make  the 
water  believe  it  had  been  turned  into  glittering 
silver  by  the  magic  wand  of  its  beams  from  the 
East. 

"•  O,  mother  ! "  exclaimed  Alma,  "  what  a 
view !  We  can  watch  up  here  for  ships  when 
Bob  is  expected  home." 

"  And  it  will  be  a  comfort,  any  way,  to  look 
out  and  see  which  way  he  went,"  replied  the 
mother,  lingering  thoughtfully  at  this  window. 

"  Now,"  said  the  squire,  "  I  want  to  tell  you 
something  about  the  picture." 

"  O  yes  ! "  replied  Alma.  "  I  almost  forgot 
that.  I  have  often  heard  about  it.  Somebody 
said  it  had  gone." 


AT  THE  WALKEK  HOME.  79 

"  It  is  in  the  house,  just  the  same,  and  I  want 
to  tell  you  about  it.  Shall  we  go  down  ? " 

The  squire  here  led  off,  and  the  two  ladies 
followed. 

He  halted  before  a  portrait  in  the  lower  hall. 
It  was  the  only  piece  of  furniture  in  all  the 
house  below  the  attic.  The  squire  almost  bowed 
to  it  as  he  spoke,  and  it  seemed,  so  tall  and 
straight  was  he,  as  if  one  of  the  stately  palms 
had  stepped  forward  from  the  groves  on  the 
wall  and  made  a  slight  obeisance  to  the 
portrait. 

"  Here  it  is,"  he  said,  and  then  remained 
silent. 

The  picture  was  that  of  a  man  about  fifty, 
stout  and  heavy,  wearing  a  scarlet  coat,  though 
the  tinting  was  much  faded  now.  The  man  did 
not  turn  fully  to  the  spectators,  but  it  seemed  as 
if,  having  started  to  move  off,  he  partially  turned 
to  say  something  that  he  had  forgotten,  and  so 
looked  over  his  shoulder.  It  was  a  very  scowl- 
ing look  he  gave  out  of  his  dark  eyes,  deep-set 
under  bushy  brows,  and  a  look  as  of  indignation 
flushed  his  full  round  face  with  red. 

"  There,"  said*the  squire,  "  the  strange  thing 
about  that  picture  is  that  I  don't  seem  to  know 


80  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

who  it  is;  whether  an  ancestor  or  just  an  in- 
truder. My  father  before  me  did  not  know.  It 
got  into  the  possession  of  the  family  somehow. 
You  know  some  people  don't  like  to  disturb 
pictures.  You  may  have  read,  as  I  have,  about 
pictures  whose  owner  said  they  must  not  be  re- 
moved. "Well.  I  have  that  kind  of  feeling  about 
that  unknown  man  in  scarlet.  So  I  tell  all  who 
live  as  tenants  not  to  touch  the  picture.  May 
be  superstition,"  continued  the  squire  in  low, 
half-whispered  tones,  as  if  he  were  talking  to 
himself,  "but  I  don't  just  like  to  disturb  him. 
He  has  been  there  so  long,  you  know,  all  these 
years  of  my  knowledge,  and  he  may  have  been 
one  of  the  family — " 

"  You  used  to  live  here,  sir,  didn't  you  ? " 
asked  Mrs.  Walker. 

"When  I  was  young;  but  I  wanted  to  get 
back  from  the  street — not  wanting  to  go  into 
business,  like  this  enterprising  young  woman 
here—" 

He  hesitated  and  looked  at  Alma.  Had  he 
told  a  secret  ? 

"  Mother  knows,"  said  Alma  quickly,  "  and 
she  approves." 

"  Very  well,  then.     So  you  see,  I  built  the 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  81 

house  where  I  am  living  now.  The  puzzling 
thing  about  that  picture — "  he  now  returned  to 
the  portrait,  which  seemed  to  interest  him  ex- 
ceedingly— "  is,  who  can  it  be  ?  Really,  though, 
I  don't  know  about  him.  Must  have  been,  it 
seems  to  me,  a  kind  of  military  man,  for  you 
see  his  coat  is  buttoned  up  like  a  soldier's — 
looks  like  it,  at  least ;  and  when  I  was  younger, 
and  my  eyes  sharper  and  the  picture  not  so 
dusty,  I  used  to  imagine  a  strap  on  his  shoul- 
der, but — I  don't  know.  Looks  pretty  resolute ; 
doesn't  he  2 " 

Alma  thought  he  did,  and  as  they  turned  to 
go  away  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  he  looked  very 
intently  at  her. 

"  You,  young  lady,  do  not  belong  to  this 
Winthrop  family,  but  I  do.  I  own  all  the 
"Winthrop  house  and  "Winthrop  family,"  the 
portrait  seemed  to  say.  It  startled  the  young 
woman. 

Alma  did  not  recover  from  this  impression  of 
a  seeming  charge  against  her,  of  trying  to  get 
him  out  of  the  Winthrop  family,  for  a  }rear  at 
least.  In  the  dark,  when  nothing  could  be  seen, 
and  in  the  bright  sunlight,  when  much  could  be 
seen,  by  Alma  hurrying  past  that  portrait,  again 


82  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

and  again  did  it  seem  as  if  the  dark  eyes  looked 
sharply  at  her,  and  "  Colonel  Scarlet-coat,"  as  the 
Walker  children  learned  to  call  him,  would  say 
again,  "  You,  young  lady,  do  not  belong  to  the 
Winthrop  family,  but  I  do." 

We  become  used,  though,  to  almost  every 
thing,  and  gradually  "Colonel  Scarlet-coat" 
ceased  to  have  any  special  interest  for  any  body 
in  the  house.  However,  he  did  not  cease  to  look 
day  and  night  over  his  shoulder  in  the  warmest 
weather  and  the  coldest  weather,  on  Sundays 
and  on  week  days,  as  if  he  were  on  the  watch  for 
the  man  or  woman  who  would  certainly  come 
some  day  and  with  no  gentle  hand  take  him 
down  from  his  honorable  place  on  the  wall. 

When  the  Walkers  were  established  in  their 
new  quarters  Alma  said  to  herself,  u  Now  for 
my  store.  But  O,  dear,  where's  the  money  com- 
ing from  with  which  to  buy  pins  and  needles 
and  cotton  and  ribbons  and  combs  and  hair- 
brushes— " 

She  stopped,  and  in  despair  looked  at  that 
vacant  window.  What  could,  could  she  do? 
She  thought,  she  planned,  she  spoke  to  one 
merchant  after  another,  but  could  get  no  help. 
She  would  not  give  it  up.  One  day  the  senior 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  83 

member  of  the  firm  of  "  Bangs  Brothers"  called 
to  her  when  passing  their  splendid  dry  goods 
store. 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Walker,  but  I  understand 
you  think  of  opening  a  little  store,"  said 
Bangs. 

"  O — it  wouldn't  interfere  with  you ! "  replied 
Alma,  thinking  he  referred  to  a  possible  clash- 
ing of  the  firms  of  "  Bangs  Brothers"  and  "  A. 
Walker." 

"O,  I  don't  mean  that!"  he  said,  with  a 
smile  ;  "  but  I  was  thinking  that  if  you 
wanted  some  goods  on  credit  I  could  let  you 
have  some." 

"  Would  you,  though  ?     That  would  be—" 

Alma  could  not  express  her  satisfaction  readily, 
but  it  shone  in  her  happy  eyes.  She  tried  to 
thank  Mr.  Bangs  as  well  as  she  could,  and  hast- 
ened home  to  tell  her  father  and  mother.  In. 
due  time  the  bay-window  was  stocked,  and  cus- 
tomers came  in. 

"  Mother,"  said  Alma  one  day,  "  I  will  tell 
you  who  I  suspect  is  at  the  bottom  of  this." 

"Of  what?" 

"  Why,  my  having  these  goods  to  sell." 

"Who?" 


84  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  I  think  Squire  Winthrop  said  something  to 
Bangs  Brothers." 

Alma's  guess  was  correct.  Squire  Winthrop 
had  said  to  the  senior  member  of  the  firm, 
"  Bangs,  that  young  woman  in  Walker's  fam- 
ily—" 

« I  know." 

"  Has  an  idea  she  would  like  to  keep  a  little 
store  in  my  old  house." 

"  Has  she  3  " 

"  Yes,  and  if  you  will  let  her  have  some  goods 
I  will  be  responsible  for  their  payment.  Don't 
say  any  thing  about  me  to  her." 

"  But  how  will  she  know  I  am  willing  to  do 
it — I  mean,  willing  to  start  her  ?  " 

"  O,  you  speak  to  her  some  day  when  she  is 
going  by.  She  will  be  passing  along  the  street, 
and  you  speak." 

Alma  passed  along  and  Bangs  spoke. 

A  month  after  this,  Squire  Winthrop  called 
upon  his  tenants  in  the  old  house.  Stepping 
into  the  store,  he  exclaimed, 

"  What,  you  here,  Mrs.  Walker  ?  You 
keep  store  ?  I  thought  Alma  was  the  store- 
keeper." 

"  Well,  squire,  somehow  I  got  interested,  and 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  85 

my  health  is  so  much  better  for  it,  and  Alma 
says  I  have  a  real  knack  at  it,  and  it  gives  her  a 
chance  to — to — " 

"  Do  something  else." 

"  Yes,  sir,  something  she  has  always  thought 
she  would  like  to  do  if  she  ever  did  have  a 
chance  to,  you  know — " 

"  Dress-making  ?  "  asked  the  squire. 

"  You  knock  on  that  door,  sir,  and  see. 
We  didn't  need  more  than  the  front  room 
for  the  store,  and  so  she  has  taken  the  back 
room." 

"  I  am  really  quite  curious  to  see,"  observed 
the  squire.  He  stepped  up  to  the  door  opening 
into  the  back  parlor  and  gently  knocked.  Yery 
quickly  a  hum  of  voices  inside  ceased,  and  the 
squire  heard  the  step  of  some  one  approaching 
the  door.  When  it  was  thrown  back  there  ap- 
peared Alma.  She  greeted  her  landlord  with  a 
pleasant,  "  O,  how  do  you  do,  Squire  Win- 
throp?" 

"  Why,  why ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  What  is  this  ? 
Have  you  a  seminary  here  ? " 

He  saw  eight  children,  each  holding  a  small 
primer  in  the  lap ;  and  it  was  well  the  book  thus 
fondled  was  not  .a  big  one,  but  slender  and  light, 


86  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

for  all  the  children  were  little  folks,  and  une- 
qual to  heavy  burdens. 

"  You  see,"  said  Alma,  a  quiet  delight  glow- 
ing in  her  eyes,  "I  have  always  had  an  idea  I 
should  like  to  teach,  and  mother,  you  see,  takes 
to  store-keeping,  and  so  I  secured  some  children 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  put  one  of  ours  with 
them,  and  that  makes  a  class." 

"  I  see,  I  see  !  "  said  the  squire,  nodding  ap- 
provingly. 

When  he  passed  out  into  the  broad  hall  and 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  he  lingered  a  rno- 
inent  to  enjoy  the  echo  of  the  children's  voices 
giving  "  teacher  "  an  answer  in  chorus. 

"  That  girl  is  a  treasure,"  thought  the  squire. 
"  I  am  sure  of  that.  I  feel  like  adopting  her 
and  making  her  my  daughter." 

However,  Squire  Winthrop  took  no  step  to- 
ward the  adoption  of  Alma  as  a  daughter.  The 
days  went  by  quietly,  but  busily.  Alma  taught, 
and  her  mother  sold  pins  and  needles.  No  harm 
came  to  the  Winthrop  house  or  Winthrop  fam- 
ily, though  the  mysterious  portrait  frowned  con- 
tinually, as  much  as  to  say,  "You,  young  lady, 
will  be  the  one  through  whom  harm  will  come 
to  me." 


AT  THE  WALKER  HOME.  87 

Harm?  lu  all  the  world,  who  had  a  more 
tender,  more  amiable  heart  \  She  was  loved  on 
land  and  sea.  One  sailor-bo y,  confessedly,  was 
her  admirer,  never  weary  of  sounding  her 
praises.  That  was  her  brother  Bob,  and  his 
flight  on  canvas  wings,  far  out  to  sea,  we  shall, 
in  a  little  while,  follow. 


88  SAILOB-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ASHORE  STILL. 

"  /^OULD  I  see  you  a  moment,  Almay?" 

\J  It  was  a  gray  morning,  and  the  clouds 
hung  thick  above  Oldburyport,  and  there  was 
no  sunshine  in  the  bay-window  of  the  old  house 
where  the  Walkers  lived.  The  sunshine,  though, 
seemed  to  have  come,  for  Alma  had  entered  the 
room,  and,  in  her  cheerful,  energetic  way,  hum- 
ming a  tune,  was  bustling  among  her  goods  of 
cotton  and  linen,  her  threads  and  laces,  her  but- 
tons and  yarn.  But  who  was  it  that  wanted  to 
see  her?  The  new-comer  was  a  spare,  gray- 
haired  woman  with  bent  form  and  worn  features, 
and  in  her  eyes  was  a  vacant,  abstracted  look,  as 
if  a  part  of  her  mind  had  wandered  away  and 
she  missed  it,  and  was  perplexed  to  know  where 
it  had  gone.  This  indeed  was  the  fact.  Some- 
thing given  to  other  people,  our  greatest  bless- 
ing, reason,  was  wanting  in  its  completeness  to 
Mary  Haviland,  and  she  had  a  confused  sense  of 
her  loss  without  the  ability  to  definitely  state  it. 


ASHORE  STILL.  89 

"  I  know  I  am  not  like  other  people,*'  Mary 
Haviland  would  sometimes  say.  Severe  sickness 
when  a  child  had  forever  stunted  her  growth, 
and,  though  she  became  a  woman,  the  mind  and 
powers  of  a  child  were  all  that  arrived  at  the 
years  of  womanhood.  Her  brother  was  Horace 
Haviland,  of  the  crew  of  the  Andromeda.  She 
knew  where  he  was  weak,  in  his  appetite  for 
drink,  and  earnestly  did  she  pray  that  Horace 
might  become  a  new  man.  She  was  extremely 
susceptible  to  the  thought  of  a  God,  of  heaven, 
of  the  spiritual  and  eternal  life.  Her  prayers 
were  marvels  of  directness  and  trust.  Alrna 
once  heard  Mary  Haviland  pray. 

"  Mary  took  me  deep  into  the  presence  of  God, 
somehow,"  Alma  told  her  mother.  "  She  had  a 
real  home-like  way  of  talking,  not  so  much  to 
him,  but  with  him.  She  never  seems  to  have  a 
doubt  but  that  she  will  always  get  just  what  she 
wants." 

Mary  had  strong  faith  in  her  brother  Horace's 
victory  sometime  over  drink. 

"  I  just  love  to  hear  Mary  tell  about  Horace 
— what  he  will  become,"  Alma  once  said  to  Aunt 
Mary.  "  Mary  at  one  time  thinks  he  will  be  a 
great  sea-captain,  and  then  another  time  it  is  a 


90  SAILOK  BOY  BOB. 

great  soldier,  or  a  great  preacher,  but  it  is  always 
something  grand  and  marvelous.  She  thiiiks  he 
is  wonderful." 

And  yet,  with  all  her  hopes  and  her  expecta- 
tions,, there  went  the  gravest  fears  on  account  of 
her  brother's  appetite  for  liquor.  Like  a  pendu- 
lum, she  went  from  joy  to  anxiety.  She  was 
now  uneasy  about  Horace.  When  she  called  to 
see  Alma,  this  gray,  clouded  morning,  she 
showed  her  distress  in  her  face. 

"Could  I  see  you  a  moment,  Almay?"  she 
asked  again. 

"  O  yes,  Mary,  what  is  it  ?  Come  into  the 
school-room.  We  shall  .be  alone  there,  you 
know." 

"  You  see,  Almay,  I  am  worried  about  Hor- 
ace." 

"  Well,  there  is  this  to  be  thought  of,  Mary : 
he  knows  his  danger,  and  will  be  likely  to  be 
careful,  I  should  say." 

"  Yes,  yes." 

That  did  not  satisfy  Mary,  though  she  assent- 
ed to  Alma's  words.  It  was  not  strange  that 
Mary  should  be  solicitous,  for  the  Andromeda 
was  halting  in  New  York.  The  number  of  her 
crew  was  not  full.  A  few  repairs  were  to  be 


ASHORE  STILL.  91 

made.  Mary  knew  that  if  Horace  ventured 
ashore  he  would  not  be  likely  to  stand  the  temp- 
tations sure  to  confront  him.  In  the  secluded 
room  where  they  stood,  there  was  silence  for  a 
while,  Mary's  faded  blue  eyes  snapping  and  her 
wrinkled  features  working  convulsively. 

"  O,  I  hope  it  will  come  out  all  right ! "  said 
Alma  assuringly.  "  You  stop  and  take  some 
breakfast  with  me." 

This  seemed  to  exhaust  Alma's  list  of  re- 
sources. It  did  not  satisfy  Mary.  She  rose 
nervously,  pulled  over  her  shoulders  a  thin, 
gray  shawl,  for  the  morning  was  cool,  and  left 
the  room.  When  she  reached  the  hall,  she 
turned  and  came  back  again. 

"  You  see,"  she  whispered,  "  I  have  an  idea 
that  what  you  say,  Almay,  is  good — but — but — 
I  seem  to  feel  that  all  I  can  do  is — is — just  to 
tell  the  Lord." 

"  That  is  right,  Mary,"  said  Alma  encourag- 
ingly. "  It  is  all  you  can  do,  and  the  best  thing 
you  can  do,  to  tell  the  Lord." 

"Yes,"  said  Mary,  "I  will  do  that.  You 
know,  Almay,  I  can  always  reach  him." 

In  a  poor  but  neat  home  on  one  of  the  nar- 
row, crooked  lanes  straggling  from  the  district 


92  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

about  Central  Street  down  to  the  wharves,  sat 
an  old  mother,  who  looked  up  from  her  knitting 
as  Mary  entered,  and  said : 

"  Got  back,  Mary  ? " 

"  Yes,  mother,"  replied  the  daughter,  and 
went  at  once  to  a  little  side  room,  in  which  was 
a  bed. 

The  door  of  this  room  she  softly  closed  when 
she  had  entered.  The  open  window  she  did  not 
shut.  Mary  had  an  idea  she  could  pray  more 
freely  when  the  window  was  open,  and  this  fact 
she  now  noticed  with  pleasure. 

"  I'll  just  tell  the  Lord,"  she  murmured,  and 
fell  upon  her  knees. 

As  she  prayed  for  the  absent,  tempted,  weak 
brother,  a  peace  came  into  her  face.  Somehow 
the  wrinkles,  as  by  the  pressure  of  a  gentle 
hand,  seemed  to  go  down  and  pass  away.  A 
robin  alighted  on  the  window-sill  and  sang. 
That  did  not  disturb  Mary. 

"  It  is  the  voice  of  the  Lord,"  she  said  in  the 
depths  of  her  soul. 

As  the  robin  sang  on,  Mary  prayed  on,  and 
the  change  in  her  face  was  still  more  marked 
and  strange.  It  was  a  child's  face  bent  over  the 
bed,  and  seemingly  asleep ;  but  Mary  was  not 


ASHORE  STILL.  &8 

asleep.  Her  soul  was  keenly  awake,  for  she  was 
with  God,  and  his  peace  came  down  into  her 
heart  and  stilled  it,  like  the  great  tide  in  the 
river  that  twice  a  day  came  from  the  sea  and 
set  at  liberty  any  stranded,  vexed  vessel,  floating 
it  off  into  depths  of  peace. 

"  I've  got  my  answer,"  said  Mary.  "  The 
Lord  will  take  care  of  Horace." 

Yes,  the  Lord  will  care,  in  his  own  way  and 
at  his  own  time ;  and  a  thought  like  this,  but  not 
so  clear  and  definite,  came  to  Mary.  As  she 
rose  from  her  knees  the  now  startled  bird  ceased 
his  song,  lifted  his  wings,  and  flew  away.  His 
music,  though,  stayed  in  the  sister's  heart  that 
had  been  pleading  for  a  brother. 

"  The  Lord's  voice,  the  Lord's  voice,"  she 
often  said  during  the  day.  "  He  will  take  care 
of  Horace." 

"  And  Horace,  where  was  he  ?  It  was  this 
same  day,  in  New  York,  that  Captain  Granby 
had  given  leave  to  his  crew  to  go  ashore. 

"  Shall  you  go,  Horace  ? "  asked  Bob. 

"I— I— don't  know.  Yes,  I  think  I  will," 
replied  Horace. 

Bob  and  Ralph  went  off  also.  They  strayed 
as  far  as  Broadway,  watching  the  crowd,  looking 


94  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

at  the  stores,  until  they  were  tired,  and  then  re- 
turned to  the  ship. 

"  Seen  any  thing  of  Horace  ? "  asked  Captain 
Granby. 

u  No,  sir ;  no,  sir." 

"  Nothing  at  all,  boys  ? " 

"  Nothing  at  all,  sir." 

"  I  wonder  where  he  is  ? " 

"  Don't  you  want  us  to  look  him  up  ?  "  asked 
Bob. 

"  "Where  would  you  go  to  ?  Like  trying  to 
find  an  eel  in  a  big  mill-pond." 

"  'Twon't  do  any  harm  just  to  try,"  suggested 
Kalph. 

"  Yes,  that  is  so,"  seconded  Bob.  "  Trying 
wont  cost  you  any  thing? " 

"  You  may  go,  boys.     Don't  go  far." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  sang  out  the  boys  together. 

Off  they  started,  Bob  and  Ralph,  to  hunt  up 
Horace,  encouraged  by  this  parting  remark  from 
Captain  Granby :  "  If  Horace  has  taken  any 
thing,  the  longer  he  is  away  from  the  ship  the 
less  sense  he  will  bring  back." 

The  boys  could  not  go  far  without  meeting  a 
row  of  rum  saloons.  They  looked  into  saloon 
after  saloon.  They  were  all  very  much  alike  in 


ASHORE  STILL.  95 

these  particulars  :  they  were  dirty,  ill-smelling, 
and  occupied  by  rough,  profane,  lazy-looking 
men.  Suddenly  Bob  shouted  : 

"  There's  our  man !     Now  for  him  ! " 
Ralph  held  back  a  moment,  asking  himself, 
"  May — may  there  not  be  trouble  ahead  ? " 
Bob  asked  no  questions,  saw  trouble  neither 
before  him  nor  behind  him,  to  the  right  or*  the 
left.     He  simply  saw  Horace,  and  rushed  on.x 
Ralph  speedily  caught  up  with  him,  and  the 
two  walked  up  to  Horace,  and  each  took  him  by 
an  arm.     He  lowered  a  glass  of  whisky  that  had 
touched  his  lips,  and  confusedly,  angrily,  looked 
at  his  interrupters. 

"  All  right,  Horace ! "  said  Bob  soothingly. 
"  Go  with  us.  That  is  a  good  fellow." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  added  Ralph ;  "  we  are  your 
friends." 

"Who  are  you?"  growled  somebody  on  the 
other  side  of  Ralph. 

Bob  and  Ralph  looked  up.  The  former 
started.  In  the  round,  compact  face,  the  heavy 
jaw,  the  fat,  coarse,  drooping  cheeks,  the  angry, 
revengeful  eyes,  Bob  saw  —  Bull-dog.  That 
drunken  sailor,  whom  Bob  met  before  his  de- 
parture from  Oldburyport;  the  same  insolent 


96  SAILOU-BOY  BOB. 

fellow  who,  with  a  bully's  manners,  had  threat- 
ened his  mulatto  companion. 

"  "Who  are  you  ?"  he  snarled  out.  again.  "  O, 
you  don't  know  enough  to  keep  out  of  gentle- 
men's company,  but  must  interrupt  when  you 
are  not  wanted.  I  know  you,"  he  added,  ad- 
dressing Bob.  "  I  have  seen  you  before." 

"  O  ! "  said  Bob  with  an  embarrassed  air. 
"No  offense  meant.  Cap'n  wants  him.  I — I 
wasn't  looking  for  you.  Didn't  expect  to  see 
you." 

"  I  s'pose  not,  young  man.  Blessings  some- 
times turn  up  when  things  least  are  expected. 
Now  you  let  this  man  alone." 

Bob  was  not  afraid. 

"  I  shall  do  my  business  with  him  in  spite  of 
yon  or  any  body  else.  The  cap'n  sent  me." 

Ralph  had  begun  to  shrink  toward  the  door, 
but  Bob's  bold  reply  gave  him  courage,  and  he 
came  back  and  took  his  stand  beside  Bob.  He 
was  no  longer  a  coward.  Was  he  going  to  leave 
Bob  alone  ?  Duty  said  "No."  That  was  enough. 
He  would  have  stood  by  the  side  of  Bob  come 
what  might,  and  it  did  look  as  if  something 
more  than  words  would  come  from  this  episode. 
Horace  was  peaceable,  and  acted  like  one  who 


ASHORE  STILL.  97 

feels  willing  to  leave  himself  in  the  hands  of  his 
friends,  but  is  not  able  to  decide  who  they  are. 
He  swayed  toward  Bob,  and  then  he  responded 
to  the  grasp  of  Bull  dog,  and  swayed  toward 
him. 

"  Let  this  man  alone,"  commanded  Bull-dog. 

"  I  sha'n't  until  he  refuses  to  go  with  me," 
replied  Bob.  "  The  cap'n  sent  me  after  you, 
Horace,  and  you  know  I  am  your  friend." 

"  That — that — sh — sho,"  said  Horace  with 
thickened,  bacchanalian  speech. 

"  Row !  row ! "  sang  out  some  of  the  drinkers 
present,  rushing  up  and  forming  a  ring  about 
the  four  sailors.  The  two  bartenders  set  down 
the  glasses  and  decanters  they  were  handling, 
and  looked  on  the  scene  curiously. 

"  You — let — go — of  him !  "  shouted  Bull-dog. 

"Not  until  he  tells  me  to.  Horace,  come 
along !  "  said  Bob. 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  chimed  in  Ealph. 

B  nil-dog  and  Bob  both  pulled  stoutly.  The 
circle  of  spectators  pressed  closer  up  to  the  con- 
testants. Ralph  eagerly  maintained  his  place  at 
the  side  of  Bob.  The  bartenders  rested  their 
elbows  on  the  counter  and  watched  with  quick- 
ened interest  the  strife. 
7 


98  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Pitch  in ! "  shouted  somebody. 

"  Pitch  out ! "  shouted  a  second. 

Matters  looked  very  serious. 

Horace  at  last  shouted,  "  I  am  not  going.  Bob, 
shay— rshay — I'll  be  there !  " 

"No  use  in  waiting!  Pass  right  out,  my 
little  men  ! "  cried  Bull-dog. 

"Yesh,  tell  the  cap'n — shay  to  him,"  said 
Horace,  "  I'll  be  there." 

The  by-standers  and  the  bartenders,  all  curi- 
ously watching  this  scene,  applauded  the  deci- 
sion, and  Bob  sullenly  retreated,  Ralph  saying, 
"  You  see  nothing  can  be  done,  Bob." 

"  I  know  it,  Ralph,  but  I  hate  to  give  up." 

The  boys  withdrew  to  the  street,  and  then 
went  to  the  ship,  followed  after  a  while  by  Hor- 
ace and — Bull-dog,  could  it  be? 

"  You  want  to  see  the  cap'n  ? "  asked  Bob, 
wondering  what  Bull-dog  wanted. 

"  I'll  see  him  for  myself  when  I  want  him," 
replied  Bull-dog,  and  retired  to  the  forecastle, 
taking  Horace  with  him. 

Bob  was  perplexed.  Could  Bull-dog  possibly 
be  one  of  the  new  seamen  shipped  at  New  York? 

"  I  hope  not,"  thought  Bob. 

There  was  no  room  for  this  hope,  Bob  saw, 


ASHORE  STILL.  99 

when  he  had  asked  information  of  the  mate, 
Roaring  Ben. 

"  He  one  of  our  men  ? "  asked  Bob. 

"That  feller  with  Horace?"  replied  Roaring 
Ben.  "  Yes,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  judging  by  his 
looks." 

Bob  was  still  more  sorry.  To  think  he  must 
go  to  sea  with  Bull-dog!  There  was  no  help 
for  it.  In  this  life  we  must  take  things  as  they 
are,  and  try  to  improve  them,  not  wait  till  they 
are  improved.  I  wish  that  on  board  the  An- 
dromeda the  surroundings  of  Bob  and  Ralph 
could  be  reported  as  fully  satisfactory ;  that 
every  sailor  could  be  counted  as  a  beau-ideal  of 
a  man,  and  every  officer  a  hero.  Such  a  report 
would  be  a  fiction. 

I  also  wish  that  it  might  have  been  shown 
that  Horace  Haviland  was  superior  to  tempta- 
tion. The  man  that  staggered  aboard  the  An- 
dromeda— was  he  the  great  captain,  the  great 
soldier,  the  grand  character  poor  Mary  Haviland 
wished  to  see,  hoped  to  see,  believed  one  day 
she  would  see  ?  Was  it  for  such  a  result  as  this 
she  had  prayed  ?  No.  Why  did  God  not  throw 
about  the  tempted  brother  that  strong  arm 
which  belongs  to  the  Almighty?  That  is  the 


100  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

old  question  why  God  does  not  answer  all  our 
prayers  at  our  dates  for  their  answers,  and  in  our 
way,  also,  of  answering.  We  must  leave  time 
and  mode  to  the  great  Hand  that  covers  them, 
and  cling  to  that  Hand,  believing  that  in  God's 
time  and  in  God's  way  the  blessing  will  be  sent. 
Mary  Haviland  hid  in  the  depths  of  her  soul 
this  confidence,  to  which  she  could  not  give  exact 
form  in  words,  and  it  held  her  soul  in  peace, 
even  as  under  the  water  the  anchor,  whose  form 
we  cannot  outline,  steadies  the  ship  amid  the 
swaying  of  the  billows. 


THE  ATLANTIC.  101 


CHAPTER  YIL 

DOWN    THE    ATLANTIC. 

Andromeda  was  now  far  out  at  sea. 
JL      "  He  says  his  name,  Bob,  is  Stephen  Wyck- 
ham,"  remarked  Ralph  one  day. 

"  Bull-dog's  name  is  that  ?  "  replied  Bob. 

"  Yes ;  Stephen  Wyckham.  And  you  know 
he  has  behaved  very  decently.  First  two  or 
three  days,  you  know,  he  snubbed  us  and  teased 
us,  Bob. 

"  Know  ?  I  rather  think  I  do — could  not 
easily  forget  that." 

•  "  Well,  when  he  found  out  that  Squire  Win- 
throp  was  my  relative,  and  had  great  pecuniary 
interest  in  the  ship,  I  think  it  made  a  great 
difference  in  his  treatment  of  me.  When  he 
found  out  that  you  were  my  friend,  I  fancied 
he  took  his  teeth  out  of  you  and  quit  shaking 
you/' 

"  I  saw  the  difference,  but  did  not  know  what 
was  the  matter." 

"  I  had  a  talk  with  him — we  wrere  on  deck 


102  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

together — and  he  said,  'They  say  you  are  a 
Winthrop.' " 

"  '  I  always  supposed  so,'  I  told  him.  Then  I 
asked  if  he  knew  Squire  Winthrop.  '  Some- 
what,' he  said.  '  Not — much.  Saw  him  once 
or  twice.  Perhaps  you  didn't  know  I  was  a 
Winthrop?'  'You?'  said  I,  and  I  suppose  I 
showed  my  surprise.  '  Stephen  Wyckham  is 
what  folks  call  me,  and  I  give  that  as  my  name. 
Really,  it  is  Stephen  W.  Wyckham,  and  the  mid- 
dle W.  is  for  Winthrop.'  '  Indeed ! '  said  I. 
Booby  I  was !  You  see,  I  could  not  keep  my 
surprise  to  myself." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  that,  to  find  out  that  the 
vicious  Bull-dog  was  a  Winthrop.  I  should  have 
told  him  that  he  must  have  made  a — a — slight 
mistake." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  that  it  is  so.  He  is  a 
fellow  that  I  don't  have  confidence  in.  How- 
ever, I  can't  help  his  saying  so." 

"  It  is  Winthrop  is  that  Winthrop  does,  you 
can  tell  him.  You  have  got  him  there." 

"  One  funny  thing  I  noticed  as  we  were 
closing  up  that  talk.  In  the  old  house  at  home, 
next  to  the  brick  block — the  house  where  your 
folks  are  living,  you  know — is  a  picture  in 


DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC.  103 

the  hall.  Did  you  ever  see  that  picture  or  hear 
of  it  ? " 

"Never  did,  Ralph.  However,  I  hope  to 
get  home  some  day  and  see  that  picture  a  good 
many  times." 

"  Nobody  knows  whose  portrait  it  is.  Squire 
"Winthrop  does  not  know  whose  it  is;  but  it 
came  somehow  into  the  family  possessions,  and 
he  has  let  it  stay  on  the  hall-wall.  It;  may  be  a 
Winthrop.  Now,  that  old  ancestor — if  he  be 
one — in  the  portrait,  has  turned  half-way  round 
and  is  looking  over  his  shoulder,  as  we  say.  I 
never  liked  the  man's  face,  and  as  Steve  Wyck- 
ham  and  I  were  talking,  Cap'n  Granby  called  to 
him.  Steve  started  to  go  to  him,  but  that  he 
might  catch  my  last  word  he  turned  and  looked 
back  at  me  over  his  shoulder,  and  there  was — " 

"  That  old  ancestor  in  the  picture  ?  " 

"  The  very  same  face,  only  Steve's  was 
younger." 

"  Don't  like  to  think  Bull-dog  is  on  guard 
there  in  that  house  where  Alma  and  the  folks 
are,  Ralph." 

"  O,  the  picture  won't  hurt ;  if  ijt  would,  I'd 
write  to  grandpa  at  once  and  have  him  burn  the 
old  thing  up,"  said  Ralph  warmly. 


104  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Tliis  passionate  interest  in  the  Walkers'  wel- 
fare was  gratifying  to  Bob. 

"  Thank  you,  Ralph ;  but  here  we  are  off 
somewhere  in  the  ocean — going  nowhere,  I  should 
say,  from  the  looks  of  things — and  precious  little 
chance  have  you  for  getting  a  letter  to  grandpa. 
Folks  at  home  must  put  up  with  the  picture — 
and  it  probably  doesn't  trouble  them — and  you 
and  I  must  put  up  with  Steve  Wyckham,  and 
make  the  best  of  him." 

"  That  is  good  philosophy,  Bob,  and  I  am  try- 
ing to  make  the  best  of  all  these  fellows  about 
me.  Some  of  them  are  rough  enough,  but  I 
don't  doubt  that  they  have  their  good  qualities. 
I  know  what  grandpa  once  said  about  a  building 
he  bought.  He  said  it  was  rough  enough  on 
one  side, '  but  really,'  he  said, '  when  I  got  round 
on  the  other  side  it  looked  very  well,  and, 
Ralph,  that  is  the  way  it  is  with  a  good  many 
people ;  and  going  through  life  you  must  try 
to  get  on  their  good-looking  side.'  Pretty  good 
advice,  wasn't  it  ? " 

"  That's  so,  Ralph — and  there  is  a  chance  to 
carry  it  out.  here.  Well,  I  am  going  to  do  my 
best — and — and — that  is  all  we  are  asked  to  do 
in  this  life.  I  am  going  to  get  along  peaceably 


DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC.  105 

with  the  folks  about  me,  and  make  as  good  a 
whaleman  as  I  can." 

"  That's  the  doctrine.  That's  the  flag  to  run 
up.  Now  stick  to  it." 

This  was  not  Ralph's  voice  replying  to  Bob ; 
but,  looking  up,  the  boys  saw  a  shaggy  face,  and 
it  accompanied  Roaring  Ben's  big  voice.  If  his 
name  had  been  the  Roaring  Lion  it  would  have 
been  very  appropriate.  He  was  a  blustering, 
self-satisfied  officer,  but  a  complete  sailor,  and  al- 
ways appreciative  of  one  who  had  that  ambition. 
He  was  rough  enough  to  compete  for  the  place 
of  the  north  wind,  but  he  was  no  friend  to  in- 
justice. "  Roaring  Ben  likes  fair  play,"  was  a 
remark  sometimes  made  of  him.  The  name  of 
the  other  mate  was  Simpson  Doolittle.  He  was 
mildness  itself  in  comparison  with  Roaring  Ben, 
but  the  sailors  did  not  like  him  so  well,  as  he 
was  sly  and  underhanded.  He  was  a  good  sailor, 
though,  and  this  qualification  kept  him  in  his 
position. 

Bob  and  Ralph  strove  to  make  as  good  sail- 
ors as  their  ship-mates,  and  in  the  accomplish- 
ment of  this  purpose  they  were  prepared  to 
appreciate  every  thing  agreeable  and  endure 
patiently  what  was  disagreeable.  One  of  the 


106  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

X 

things  disagreeable  and  to  be  endured  was  a — 
big  storm. 

"  Something  is  coming,  Bob ! "  said  Capt. 
Granby,  squinting  at  his  barometer.  "  See  that. 
Mercury  has  been  a-fallin'.  Clouds,  too,  look 
bad.  Wind  is  threatenm'." 

He  here  went  to  the  cabin-door  and  looked 
up  at  the  sky,  and  then  across  the  sea.  Ralph 
stepped  forward  when  he  saw  the  captain  and 
Bob  at  the  cabin-door. 

"  Watchin'  for  the  weather,  boys,"  said  Capt. 
Granby. 

"  Does  it  look  pretty  bad  ? "  inquired  Ralph. 

"  R — r — rether,"  remarked  the  captain  oracu- 
larly. "  I  have  been  caught  in  this  part  of  the 
Atlantic  once  before." 

"  Was  it  a  bad  storm  ? "  asked  Bob. 

"  Yes,  something  of  a  gale,  and  I  think  she  is 
coming  now.  We  must  make  every  thing  snug 
to-night,  and  it  will  be  sunset  soon.  You  see 
the  sea  is  pretty  rough." 

The  waves  were  rolling  heavier  and  angrier, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  the  Andromeda  was  plung- 
ing into  a  mob  of  turbulent  sea-monsters,  all 
springing  at  her.  She  would  dash  down  among 
them  boldly  and  then  come  up  shivering  after 


DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC.  107 

such  reckless  exposure,  trying  to  shake  them  off, 
these  huge,  cold,  frothing  beasts  of  the  deep. 
The  vessel  carried  very  little  sail.  Every  inch  $f 
canvas  exposed  to  the  breeze  was  swollen  out 
by  it  till  firm  as  a  drum-head  on  parade-day. 

"How  the  wind  howls  through  the  rigging ! " 
exclaimed  Ralph  to  Bob. 

"  A  reg'lar  organ,"  said  the  captain,  who  heard 
the  remark. 

From  every  mast,  every  spar,  every  bit  of 
sail,  every  rope,  every  boat,  every  ring-bolt,  from 
every  opening  anywhere — like  a  hawser-hole,  or 
that  in  a  block,  or  in  the  funnel  projecting  from 
the  cook's  caboose — the  wind  rushing  about  it  or 
through  it  would  evoke  some  kind  of  a  noise. 
And  all  these  responses,  high  or  low,  shrill  or 
hoarse,  like  a  roar  or  like  a  sigh,  piping  far  up 
on  the  tenor  or  roaring  far  down  in  the  depths  of 
the  bass,  were  combined  into  a  chorus  to  which 
the  comely  maiden  Andromeda  was  forced  to  be 
a  listener.  Then  there  was  the  sound  of  the 
billows  smiting,  pounding,  bombarding  her  sides. 
This  was  no  small  feature  of  the  growing  up- 
roar. As  the  boys  watched  the  vexed  and  noisy 
sea,  and  then  glanced  at  the  cloudy,  sullen  sky, 
they  heard  the  captain  say : 


108  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"And  yet  I  feel  quite  safe  in  the  Androin- 
eda." 

* "  You   do  ? "    said   Ralph,   relieved   by  this 
remark. 

"  Yes,  we  are  not  near  a  shore  that  is  waiting 
to  trip  us  up,  but  we  have  plenty  of  sea-room. 
Then  the  vessel  is  well  built.  She  is  no  toy,  I 
tell  ye,  though  she  is  a  leetle  old-fashioned.  I 
hope,  too,  her  cap'n  and  mates  know  something 
about  managing  a  ship.  You  see  wrecks  are 
not  the  rule,  but  the  exception.  We  .must  take 
that  into  account.  Yes,  in  a  good  ship  I  feel 
safe.  We  are  going  to  get  a  good  deal  tossed 
up,"  said  the  captain  looking  about  on  the  heav- 
ing, foaming  sea,  "  but  I  think  we  shall  come 
out  all  right." 

The  Andromeda  was  very  uneasy  on  that 
tossing  sea.  'Rastus  (in  full  Erastus),  the  black 
cook,  was  just  then  passing  into  the  cabin,  care- 
fully poising  in  his  hand  a  covered  dish,  and  a 
lurch  of  the  ship  threatened  to  send  him  one 
way  and  the  dish  another.  He  recovered  his 
balance,  though,  shouting  : 

"  Look  out  dar,  honeys !  I  tell  ye  dis  am  a 
big  storm  comin'." 

When  he  returned  he  said  to  the  boys : 


DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC.  109 

"  If  ye  git  sliilled,  come  in  whar  dar's  a  good 
fire." 

Ralph  and  Bob  thanked  him,  and  turned  into 
the  forecastle  to  wait  until  the  watch  on  deck 
should  be  relieved,  and  their  turn  mighj  come 
to  go  on  duty.  The  sailors  were  passing  in  and 
out,  and  the  most  of  those  that  left  the  forecas- 
tle wore  their  sou'-westers  and  oiled  suits,  for 
word  came  that  it  was  beginning  to  rain.  When 
Bob  and  Ralph  went  out  they  were  dressed  in 
like  fashion.  What  a  night  that  was  on  board 
the  Andromeda  !  a  night  that  was  followed  by  a 
day  as  violent,  and  a  second  night  even  wilder. 
It  was  a  "  blow "  that  lasted  two  days,  and  the 
blow  seemed  to  have  rolled  all  the  water-casks 
in  the  sky  to  a  point  just  over  the  Andromeda 
and  then. emptied  them.  It  was  cataract  upon 
cataract. 

"  Well,  Bob,"  said  somebody  crouching  in  the 
shelter  of  the  ship's  rail  to  windward,  the  voice 
issuing  from  beneath  a  rough  sou'- wester,  "  how 
do  you  stand  this  ?  Hold  on  there." 

"Aye,  aye,  Ralph,"  cried  a  voice  that  was 
heard  under  the  eaves  of  a  second  sou'-wester. 
"  I  have  got  a  grip  on  this  ring-bolt.  I  tell  ye  1 
Isn't  this  tough  ? " 


110  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Yes,  but  it  has  got  to  blow  over  sometime. 
Must  be  an  end  to  it." 

"  If  it  don't  make  an  end  to  us,"  added 
Bob.  "  I — I  do  feel  shaky  about  our  getting 
through." 

"  Looks  like  an  upset  sometimes,  I  must  say. 
All  right,  though." 

What  ?  Bob  gave  a  puzzled  look  at  Ralph. 
They  seemed  to  have  changed  places.  Ralph 
was  likely  to  show  signs  of  timidity ;  Bob  was 
the  lion,  who  never  cared  to  turn  back  from  a 
foe. 

"  O,  what  a  blow !  Let  me  get  under  that  rail 
farther,"  said  Bob,  "  and  get  a  fresh  grip  on  that 
bolt  again." 

Bob,  as  he  shrank  closer  up  to  Ralph,  noticed 
where  his  jacket  parted,  and  saw  a  little  book 
sticking  up  from  an  inside  pocket. 

"  What's  that  book  ?  "  said  Bob.  "  Life  pre- 
server?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Ralph  soberly. 

Bob  knew  at  once  that  it  was  Ralph's  Testa- 
ment. 

"  Don't  know,"  observed  Bob,  "  but  I  ought 
to  have  mine  in  my  pocket ;  but  the  fact  is,  I 
don't  know  as  I  have  got  one." 


DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC.  Ill 

"  It  would  not  do  any  harm,  Bob.  I  gener- 
ally have  a  pocket  Testament  about  me." 

Ralph  was  not  one  who  could  easily  speak 
about  liis  religious  habits.  His  life,  though, 
spoke  for  him.  That  is  our  best  witness  to  the 
fact  that  we  own  and  read  the  Bible,  while  we 
ought  to  be  ready  to  say  a  needed  word  for  it. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Bob,  "a  fellow  ought  to 
read  it,  but — but — I  don't  seem  to  get  time." 

"  O,  make  time ! " 

Bob  did  not  like  to  continue  this  conversation. 
He  therefore  said,  "  Seems  to  me,  young  man, 
you  are  unusually  calm  for  you." 

"  Am  I  ?     Don't  feel  so  sometimes,  but — " 

Ralph  did  not  have  an  opportunity  to  finish 
this  sentence,  for  a  big  sea  swept  the  deck  of 
the  Andromeda,  boiling  over  and  about  the  two 
boys,  and,  if  they  had  not  been  clinging  to  a 
ring-bolt,  might  have  washed  both  of  them  over- 
board. When  it  had  retreated,  they  arose  and 
ran  to  the  forecastle.  Bob  removed  his  wet 
clothing  and  crawled  into  his  bunk.  It  was  not 
a  quiet  resting-place,  for  the  vessel  was  tossing 
violently,  and  every  thing  on  board  seemed  to 
toss  with  it.  Stretching  oat  and  bracing  himself 
against  his  bunk  so  as  to  be  as  secure  as  possible, 


112  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

he  returned  to  the  subject  about  which  he  and 
Kalph  had  been  talking  when  the  big  wave 
struck  the  ship. 

"Don't  see  why  that  fellow  isn't  more  ex- 
cited," thought  Bob..  "  It  is  not  his  style.  Look 
at  him  now." 

Glancing  out  of  his  berth,  Bob  saw  Kalph  sit- 
ting on  the  blue  chest  that  Grandpa  Winthrop 
gave  him. 

"Reading?"  thought  Bob.  "Yes,  he  has 
taken  out  that  Life-preserver,  and  seems  to  be 
looking  inside  of  it.  "Wonder  if  that  has  any 
thing  to  do  with  his  calmness !  Queer  fellow, 
but  I  like  him  ! " 

To  Bob,  Ralph  was  still  a  "  queer  fellow." 
The  perplexing  part  of  this  problem  of  Ralph's 
character  was  an  ordinary  physical  shrinking, 
and  yet  at  times  an  extraordinary  absence  of  all 
fear  of  consequences,  so  that  in  comparison  Bob 
the  daring,  the  reckless,  became  Bob  the  timid, 
and  fearful.  It  was  when  Ralph's  spiritual  nat- 
ure was  aroused  and  his  trust  in  God  stimulated, 
that  his  thought  of  self,  of  shame,  of  pain  was 
lost  in  the  consciousness  of  another's  need  and 
his  duty  to  God.  It  was  then  that  the  spiritual 
in  Ralph  dominated  the  natural,  and  he  became 


DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC.  113 

the  hero  in  thought  and  was  ready  to  be  a  mar- 
tyr in  reality.  The  storm  at  first  intimidated 
him,  but  in  that  little  "  Life-preserver  "  he  had 
come  in  contact  with  certain  assurances  which 
floated  his  soul  beyond  the  reach  of  any  fear. 
Did  not  God  rule  the  storm  ?  Was  not  the  un- 
ruly sea  held  a  prisoner  in  his  great  palm  ?  If 
the  Andromeda  went  to  the  bottom,  Ralph  would 
not  go  out  of  the  loving  grasp  of  that  fatherly 
Hand.  Was  not  the  end  of  storm — and  wreck, 
even — not  only  the  saving,  but  bettering,  of  His 
children  ? 

"  Then  I  will  trust  him  and  be  at  ease,"  said 
Ralph,  and  while  Bob,  as  he  confessed,  was  at 
times  shivering,  Ralph  was  calm.  - '. 

"  O,  dear  ! "  thought  Bob,  as  the  ship  lurched 
and  threw  him  out  of  his  previous  position  in 
his  bunk.  "  This  is  a  fearfully  uneasy  ship ! 
What  is  that  ?  " 

His  bedding  was  disturbed  by  the  general  up- 
heaval, and  he  felt  at  one  side  of  his  bunk  a  hard 
little  object  not  observed  before. 

"  I  should  say  it  was  my  pocket-book  if  I  had 
any  money  in  it  to  make  it  hard.  I  will  just  see 
what  that  is.  Come  up  here!  Out  with  you! 

Why  don't  you  come?     Don't  you  want  to  be 
8 


114:  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

known  ?  Now  I  have  you !  A  book !  A  Bible, 
I  declare !  Where  did  this  come  from  ? " 

He  opened  it.  He  turned  to  a  fly-leaf.  There 
he  saw  in  Alma's  handwriting  this  sentence, 
"  Brother  Bob,  from  Alma  and  Carrie." 

"  That  is  nice  I "  thought  Bob.  "  Like  getting 
a  letter  from  home.  Wonder  how  it  carne 
here!" 

He  thought  Ralph  might  have  been  delegated 
to  put  it  under  his  bedding,  but  Ralph  knew 
nothing  about  it.  Not  until  Bob  reached  home 
did  he  learn  the  solution  of  this  mystery — that 
Carrie,  the  day  of  the  visit  of  the  family  to  the 
Andromeda,  had  hid  the  book  away  in  Bob's 
bunk.  She  had  thrust  it  under  the  mattress, 
and  only  the  heaving  of  this  storm  had  disturbed 
its  resting-place. 

Bob  braced  himself  firmly  in  his  berth,  and, 
opening  to  a  psalm,  began  to  read  the  twenty- 
third,  "  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd." 

"That  is  good,"  thought  Bob.  As  he  read 
on,  his  thoughts  went  home.  Back  of  Squire 
Winthrop's  house  was  a  very  deep,  old-fashioned 
garden.  The  lower  part  of  it  was  given  up  to 
the  green  grass  that  here  grew  in  luxuriance. 
A  brook  that  flashed  across  this  part  of  the 


DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC.  115 

garden  fed  the  grass-roots,  and  gave  them  a 
thrifty  growth.  One  summer  the  squire  took  it 
into  his  head  to  keep  a  few  sheep,  and,  tethered 
here  in  this  grassy  inclosure,  they  would  con- 
tentedly browse  on  the  juicy  verdure,  and  occa- 
sionally cool  their  noses  in  the  tinkling  waters. 
Bob  had  been  working  at  intervals  that  season 
for  the  squire,  and  whenever  he  was  in  the  gar- 
den he  loved  to  make  the  little  flock  a  call,  and 
see  how  contented  they  were  in  this  calm, 
secluded  corner. 

"  This  makes  me  think  of  home,"  he  now  said, 
this  stormy  day  on  board  the  Andromeda- 
"  makes  me  think  of  the  squire's  garden,  the 
green  grass,  and  the  sheep  there." 

His  thoughts  did  not  drift  back  to  the  An- 
dromeda, but  lingered  amid  the  beautiful  illus- 
tration of  the  psalm  furnished  by  the  squire's 
garden. 

"  That  is  the  way  it  is  with  God's  care.  Pretty 
idea  !  "  he  thought. 

Bob  was  tired.  When  out  on  duty,  fighting 
the  storm  had  been  hard  work.  When  he  sought 
his  berth,  the  agitation  of  the  ship  made  his  rest 
uneasy  and  fragmentary.  He  craved  inward 
calm  also.  As  he  lay  there,  this  opened  Bible 


116  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

before  him,  Squire  Winthrop's  far-away  garden 
seemed  to  open  to  him.  He  was  also  among 
the  sheltered,  cherished  sheep.  He  heard  the 
words,  "  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd  ;  I  shall  not 
want."  Gradually  the  book  drooped  in  his 
hand.  His  eyes  occasionally  would  shut.  Then 
he  would  open  them,  raise  his  Bible,  read  a  line, 
and  another  drowsy  spell  would  steal  over  him. 
He  would  start,  look  about  him,  brace  himself 
stoutly  in  his  bunk,  read,  think  of  the  squire's 
garden,  grow  calm  and  drowsy  once  more. 

"Why,"  said  Ralph,  approaching  his  berth, 
"  Bob  has  gone  to  sleep !  Got  a  book  in  his 
hand  !  The  sleep  will  do  him  good." 

The  sleep  indeed  did  him  good,  and  the  find- 
ing of  the  book  a  greater  good.  Ever  after, 
with  the  Bible  was  associated  Squire  Winthrop's 
grassy  garden-patch  and  the  little  flock  there,  and 
then  would  steal  into  his  soul  a  pleasant  sense  of 
rest  and  security. 

"  1  ought  to  read  my  Bible,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
will  begin  right  off." 

Fair  weather  soon  came.  The  sun  threw  back 
from  his  bright  face  the  dark,  muffling  cowl  of 
the  storm.  The  waves  went  submissively  down 
before  their  great,  radiant  superior  in  the  sky, 


DOWN  THE  ATLANTIC.  117 

confessing  his  power.  The  Andromeda  spread 
its  sails  above,  while  below  the  carpenter  went 
from  spot  to  spot,  repairing  the  damaged  rails, 
mending  the  ruptured  wood-work  about  the 
cook's  and  sailors'  quarters,  making  every  thing 
trim  and  tight  again.  At  last,  it  did  not  look 
at  all  as  if  there  had  been  a  violent  duel  in 
which  Andromeda  and  the  sea-monsters  were 
the  opposing  sides,  Andromeda  getting  the  worst 
of  it ;  but  this  stanch  maiden  was  herself  again. 
Fair  weather  duties  were  resumed  by  the  crew. 
Life  went  back  to  its  old  courses.  Bob,  though, 
did  not  go  back  to  his  old  neglect  of  the  Bible. 
He  read  it  regularly.  From  it  he  took  thoughts 
that  promised  sometime  to  be  the  seed  of  a  life 
radically  different  from  that  in  the  past. 


118  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MIGHT  TRY. 

CAPTAIN  GRANBY  was  not  a  religious 
\J  man.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  not  hos- 
tile to  religion.  He  respected  its  forms  after  a 
fashion,  though  he  did  not  observe  them. 
When  Sunday  came,  although  he  never  at- 
tempted to  secure  for  his  men  a  religious  serv- 
ice, he  would  yet  say : 

"  Slick  up,  men !  Play  you  were  goin'  to 
church,  and  get  out  your  go-to-meetin'  clothes." 

All  day  there  would  huddle  on  the  deck  a 
flock  of  men  better  dressed  than  on  other  days. 
They  would  be  likely  to  sport  mammoth  neck- 
ties with  huge  flapping  ends  like  sails.  Some 
would  appear  in  white  duck  pants.  The  cap- 
tain would  make  their  work  as  light  as  he 
could,  and  tell  'Rastus  to  "  feed  out  a  little 
better  grub  than  common."  This  was  "  keepin' 
Sunday." 

The  great  vice  of  the  Andromeda's  crew 
was  profanity.  Ralph  and  Bob  had  never  been 


MIGHT  TRY.  119 

guilty  of  it,  and  the  crew's  very  free  habit  of 
blasphemy  shocked  them  into  an  intenser  aver- 
sion to  it,  especially  Kalph.  Captain  Granby  was 
not  clear  of  this  taint,  but  he  was  far  less  in- 
fected by  it  than  his  men.  He  issued  this  dis- 
criminating order,  as  he  considered  it,  for  the 
first  day  of  the  week  : 

"  Now,  my  men,  no  swearin'  on  Sunday.  If 
you  must  be  heathen  on  six  days  out  of  the 
seven,  don't  be  that  the  fust  day.  Mind  your 
manners  now,  and  quit  your  swearin'  on 
Sunday." 

Captain  Granby,  with  an  oath,  gave  emphasis 
to  his  famous  order  on  profanity,  and  declared 
that  "  Sunday  should  be  respected."  The  crew 
were  more  particular  after  the  issue  of  that 
order. 

"  Sunday — that  is  the  day  when  we  get  less 
work  and  more  grub,"  observed  one  of  the  crew 
to  Ralph  and  Bob. 

Kalph,  though,  wondered  if  something  more 
could  not  be  done  to  notice  the  day. 

"  Hardly  know  what,"  he  reflected,  "  and  yet 
I  think  something  might  be  done." 

In  his  kit  he  had  an  old  Sunday-school  hym- 
nal, and  as  he  and  Bob  were  good  singers,  and 


120  SAILOB-BOY  BOB. 

were  familiar  with  many  of  the  selections,  Ralph 
sometimes  would  pull  out  the  book  on  Sunday, 
and  in  a  very  modest  way,  when  the  forecastle 
was  empty,  they  would  try  some  of  the  tunes 
identified  with  home.  There  were  men  dis- 
posed to  ridicule  the  "  chaplain,"  as  they  called 
Ralph,  while  they  nicknamed  Bob  "  the  dea- 
con," until  he  said  to  them  : 

"Don't  you  deacon  me." 

A  few  encouraged  the  boys,  to  sing  on. 
There  was  a  gray-haired  sailor  whom  the  crew 
had  named  "  The  old  man."  His  real  name 
was  John  Wilson,  a  quiet,  meditative  man,  say- 
ing very  little,  and  disposed  to  keep  aloof  from 
the  crew,  though  messing  and  working  and 
bunking  side  by  side  with  them.  He  surprised 
Ralph,  one  Sunday,  with  a  remark  made  on  deck. 
Ralph  and  the  old  man  were  leaning  over  the 
rail,  watching  the  sunset.  There  was  a  bank  of 
fair-weather  purple  in  the  west,  through  which 
the  light  broke  in  lines  and  rifts  as  if  these  were 
golden  cords 'that  looped  up  rich  Tyrian  drap- 
ery. A  young  moon  above  the  purple  bank  was 
shining  with  a  soft,  silver  radiance.  Not  far  off 
the  evening  star  had  kindled  its  peaceful  rays. 
The  scene  was  one  to  invite  serious  contempla- 


MIGHT  TJRY.  '    121 

tion.  Several  sailors  besides  Ralph  and  the  old 
man,  dressed  in  their  so-called  Sunday  rig,  were 
watching  the  same  scene. 

"  Makes  me  think  of  home  and  the  folks," 
observed  the  old  man.  "  Has  a  good  effect,  like 
your  singing." 

"•  Thank  you,"  said  Ralph,  pleased  to  receive 
this  compliment. 

"  I  wish  myself  you  would  sing  more.  Don't 
know  as  you  would  think  it,  but  I  was  brought 
up  that  way.  I  was  baptized.  I  belong  to  the 
Church.  No,  you  might  not  think  so." 

Ralph  did  not  interrupt  him,  but  allowed  him 
to  continue  these  remarks. 

"  Now,  I  would  like  to  hear  some  more  of 
them  tunes.  I  have  an  idee  that  if  you  asked 
the  cap'n  he  might  make  it  sort  of  reg'lar  on 
Sunday — let  us  have  it,  say,  in  the  for'c'stle  at  a 
certain  hour.  And  if  you  could  make  a  prayer, 
say,  chaplain,  and  read  a  leelle  Scriptur'  it  would 
seem  sort  of  like  old  times." 

"  O  —  O  !  "  said  the  blushing,  embarrassed 
Ralph,  "  I— I  didn't  think  of  that ! " 

"  Why  not  ? "  asked  Wilson  coolly.  "  I  have 
been  thinking  it  over.  Couldn't  you  pick  up 
a  few  prayers  somewhere  ?  I  am  sure  we  all 


122  -  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

need  'em  bad  enough.  There  are  some  good 
prayers  people  have  written,  if  you  can't  make 
one  up  yourself.  And  a  leetle  Scriptur',  you 
know,  chaplain." 

Ralph  stammered  out  an  attempt  at  a  reply, 
saying  he  would  think  it  over. 

"  I  didn't  know  as  you  would  have  any  objec- 
tion, chaplain,"  said  Wilson  in  tones  of  disap- 
pointment. "  If  a  thing  is  right,  you  know — " 

That  appeal  stimulated  Ralph's  shrinking 
nature. 

"  Right,  you  know,"  continued  Wilson,  "  that 
seems  to  settle  it ;  but  then,  'scuse  me,  I  ought 
not  to  tell  other  folks  what  to  do.  Perhaps,  if 
I  had  the  eddication,  I  might  not  be  backward 
myself,  and  might  do  more  toward  helpin'  this 
keepin'  Sunday.  Of  course,  it  is  right." 

Unconsciously,  Wilson  had  struck  a  key  in 
Ralph's  moral  nature  that  never  yet  had  failed 
to  respond  to  any  appeal  to  it.  Without  any 
false  self-assertion,  Ralph  knew  well  enough  that 
he  had  what  Wilson  called  the  "  eddication." 
He  had  advanced  beyond  Bob  in  his  studies, 
and  would  have  entered  college  had  his  health 
permitted  it.  Another  thing  he  appreciated. 
He  understood  thoroughly  the  fact  that,  though 


MIGHT  TKY.  123 

in  the  forecastle,  he  was  the  relative  of  one  hav- 
ing great  pecuniary  interests  in  the  ship,  and  he 
rather  than  Wilson  would  be  the  one  to  interview 
Captain  Granby. 

"  I  ought  not  to  let  him  think  of  doing  it, 
poor  old  Wilson.  I  won't  shirk  if  somebody 
must  do  it.  Yes,  I'll  make  the  effort ;  do  my 
duty,  come  what  will.  Perhaps  God's  hand  is 
in  it  all.  I  might  try  ;  yes,  I  might  try." 

He  thought  a  moment,  and  in  his  decided 
way,  so  characteristic  of  him  when  duty  had 
been  made  plain,  resolved  to  go  to  Captain 
Granby  at  once. 

Ralph  was  obliged  to  expel  several  hindering 
lumps  from  his  throat,  but  he  -made  known  his 
errand. 

"  Capital ! "  said  the  captain.  "  I  say  that  right 
off,  though  you  might  not  expect  it  of  me. 
Another  thing,  Ralph,  I  think  it  would  have  a 
good  effect  on  the  men.  We  are  all  of  us  mis- 
erable sinners  and  need  something,  and,  any  way, 
I  notice  say  in'  prayers  on  board  a  ship  don't 
hurt  the  discipline.  You  go  ahead  and  I'll  back 
ye  up." 

Ralph  went  away,  saying  to  himself  : 

"  That  is  encouraging.    There's  the  '  old  man ' 


124  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

feeling  the  way  he  does,  and  the  cap'n  talking  * 
this  fashion.      Did  not  know  they  had  those 
thoughts." 

In  a  land  that  seems  dry  and  barren,  no  one 
can  tell  what  waters  may  flow  beneath  the  sur- 
face until  some  driven  well  shall  search  and  find 
out  the  springs  hidden  there  and  ready  to  bub- 
ble out.  In  the  heart  that  seems  without  inter- 
est, the  surface  of  whose  life  seems  withered 
and  blasted,  may  be  accumulated  hidden  waters 
of  feeling  that  flow  out  in  some  unusual  moment 
of  spiritual  test  and  trial. 

"Well,  chaplain,  you  have  got  yourself  into 
business  on  Sunday,"  jokingly  observed  Bob  to 
Ealph. 

"  Dare  say ;  but,  if  I  am  in,  you  are  too.  I 
don't  mean  to  leave  you  out." 

"Oh-h-O!     How's  that?" 

"  You  have  got  to  be  chorister." 

Bob  demurred,  but  Ralph  could  not  excuse 
him.  These  very  humble  Sunday  services  were 
begun  with  that  understanding  between  the  two ; 
Ralph  was  chaplain,  but  Bob  was  chorister. 
Some  of  the  crew  ridiculed  the  plan  of  Sunday 
services,  but  the  majority  were  on  the  side  of  a 
respectful  keeping  of  the  day,  and  declared 


MIGHT  TRY.  125 

"  Let's  have  them !  They  won't  hurt  us.  "We'll 
stand  by  you,  chaplain." 

One  might  have  supposed  that  the  sailor  who 
resembled  the  picture  in  the  hall  of  the  old 
Winthrop  house  would  have  had  for  these  serv- 
ices a  look  more  hostile  than  that  in  the  ancient 
picture  even.  To  the  surprise  of  Ralph  and  Bob 
he  was  an  earnest  supporter  of  the  services. 

"  Can't  account  for  it ! "  thought  Bob.  "  It 
isn't  his  style." 

It  was  not  Steve's  style,  and  yet  he  did  the 
courteous  thing,  coming  into  the  forecastle  at 
the  time  of  the  services  and  behaving  with  pro- 
priety. Horace  Haviland  was  there  also.  "  I 
feel  I  ought  to  sustain  them  from  a  town  inter- 
est," declared  Horace  to  Ralph  and  Bob.  "  You 
chaps  come  from  the  same  town,  you  know." 

The  "  services  "  consisted,  for  the  greater  part, 
of  singing.  A  chapter  was  read  from  the  Bible, 
the  Lord's  Prayer  said,  and  Ralph  added  two 
other  prayers.  Ralph  had  only  his  own  hymnal, 
but  he  multiplied  the  tunes  and  hymns.  There 
were  several  good  penmen  among  the  crew,  and 
Ralph  secured  their  help  as  copyists.  The  tunes 
had  various  degrees  of  popularity,  but  those  that 
the  sailors  did  like  they  used  through  the  week 


126  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

at  all  hours.  They  might  be  heard  down  in  the 
forecastle  evenings ;  or  perhaps  in  the  depths  of 
midnight,  when  the  Andromeda  in  the  moon- 
light was  racing  across  a  field  of  liquid  silver, 
two  or  three  strong  deep  voices  would  catch  up 
and  bear  away  one  of  the  "  chaplain's  "  hymns. 

"  Well,  chaplain,"  Roaring  Ben  said  one  day, 
"  I  think  your  Sunday  singin'  is  a  good  move. 
You  know  we  seamen  have  libraries  on  board 
ship  oftentimes ;  I  shall  recommend  in  the  future 
that  they  always  put  into  ?ern  something  to  sing 
out  of." 

"  Well,  chaplain,"  Roaring  Ben  began  again, 
"good  as  this  Sunday  singin'  is,  I  don't  know  as 
you  will  catch  'em  all." 

"I  see  that  they  all  don't  get  into  the  Sunday 
singing." 

This  was  the  name  generally  given  to  the 
forecastle  services,  and  the  title  was  a  relief  to 
Ralph,  who  timidly  shrank  from  the  idea  that 
he  was  conducting  any  thing  so  important  or 
responsible  as  "  religious  services." 

"  Haven't  seen  '  Volcano '  there,  chaplain." 

"  No ;  Vol,  I  believe,  hasn't  put  his  head  inside 
the  for'c'stle  during  the  Sunday  singing." 

Volcano    (a    name    generally    shortened     to 


MIGHT  TRY.  127 

"  Yol")  was  the  nickname  of  a  sailor  who  was 
shockingly  profane.  Any  expression  was  gen- 
erally fired  up  with  blasphemy,  but  when  he  was 
excited,  his  profane  eruptions  were  frightful. 
This  sad  peculiarity  gave  him  his  cognomen. 
Captain  Granby,  as  little  inclined  as  he  was  to 
be  reverent,  would  never  have  kept  him  on 
board  the  Andromeda,  had  he  not  been  a  thor- 
ough whaleman.  JHe  would  have  been  made 
an  officer,  had  it  not  been  for  this  offensive 
habit. 

"  Profanity  is  bad  enough  in  a  servant,"  said 
one  ship  owner,  to  whom  a  friend  had  ventured 
to  commend  Rufus  Ring  as  a  worthy  candidate 
for  a  mateship.  "  I  am  not  willing  to  put  pro- 
fanity in  office/' 

Neither  Ralph  nor  Bob  supposed  that  Rufus 
Ring,  alias  Yol,  would  come  to  the  Sunday 
singing.  One  Sunday  afternoon,  though,  Ralph 
took  occasion,  during  the  singing  of  a  hymn,  to 
go  up  on  deck.  He  left  Bob  in  charge  of  the 
tune,  a  dozen  sons  of  Neptune  roaring  out  their 
faithful  assistance.  Ralph  had  missed  'Rastus 
the  cook,  and  wished  to  step  to  his  galley  and 
urged  him  to  come  to  the  forecastle,  if  possible, 
knowing  that  'Rastus's  sympathies  were  with  the 


128  SAILOR-BOY  J3os. 

service.  Turning  away  from  the  galley  after 
leaving  his  message  for  the  cook,  and  facing  the 
hatchway  leading  to  the  forecastle,  he  saw  a 
sailor  bending  over  it  and  looking  down,  as  if 
eager  to  catch  every  note  that  was  coming  up. 
When  Ralph  reached  the  man  he  was  surprised 
to  see  in  the  face  that  tried  to  turn  away  and 
look  unconcerned,  the  leader  of  the  profanity  of 
the  crew,  Rufus  King.-  Ralph  was  very  confi- 
dent also  that  he  saw  tears  glistening  in  the 
eyes  of  Yol,  but  the  movement  of  his  face  was 
so  rapid  as  it  turned  that  Ralph  could  not  be 
positive  in  his  opinion. 

"Still,"  thought  Ralph,  "I  do  believe  the 
man  is  crying." 

Yol  quickly  went  to  the  vessel's  rail,  and,  lean- 
ing over  it,  looked  down  at  the  sea.  Ralph  had 
one  of  his  spasms  of  timidity,  and  then,  as  con- 
science said,  "  You  ought  to  speak  to  that  man 
and  ask  him  down  into  the  forecastle,"  Ralph 
stepped  up  to  him,  laid  his  hand  on  his  shoulder, 
and  said  pleasantly,  "  Ruf us ! " 

"What  say,  chaplain?"  replied  Ruf  us  very 
soberly,  not  looking  up,  but  still  gazing  at  the 
water  shivering  into  a  thousand  crystals  along 
the  vessel's  side. 


MIGHT  TBY.  129 

"  "Won't  you  come  down  and  sing  with  us  ? " 

Ralph  expected  that  an  oath  would  be  flung 
at  him,  but,  to  his  surprise,  he  was  addressed  in 
ordinary  English,  "  Why  didn't  you  ask  me  be- 
fore?" 

"  I — I  wish  I  had,  but  I  thought  that  as  a  rule, 
a  general  notice  might  do.  However,  I  wish  I 
had  spoken  to  you.  Come  now,  please." 

Ralph  was  still  looking  for  a  bomb-shell  in 
the  shape  of  an  oath.  It  did  not  come.  The 
blasphemer  came,  though.  He  followed  Ralph 
down  into  the  forecastle,  and  then,  with  a  half- 
ashamed  air,  sneaked  to  the  rear  of  the  men,  and 
there,  sitting  on  an  old  chest,  listened  intently, 
but  holding  his  head  down. 

The  singing,  that  afternoon,  was  of  a  pecul- 
iarly pleading,  penitential  nature. 

"  0,  Jesus,  thou  art  standing 
Outside  the  fast-closed  door," 

was  one  of  the  hymns.  They  were  all  very 
direct  in  their  invitations  to  the  slumbering 
soul.  They  were  door-knocks  of  an  impera- 
tive character,  like  those  given  in  the  night, 
echoing  through  the  deserted  hall  and  startling 

all  who  hear. 
9 


130  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

When  the  singing  was  over  and  the  chaplain 
had  made  two  or  three  prayers,  very  short  and 
humble,  the  men  went  away.  Ralph  and  Bob 
passed  up  on  deck  also.  It  was  a  marvelous  sun- 
set, for,  as  the  sun  sank  in  the  west,  a  silvery  moon 
in  all  its  glory  rose  in  the  east  and  rested  on  the 
water.  It  seemed  as  if  one  of  the  fabulous 
structures  sometimes  said  to  exist  under  the 
waves  had  come  up  to  prove  the  accuracy  of 
those  fancies,  and  lifted  this  shining  dome. 
There,  in  the  east,  the  water  became  silver — the 
whitest,  as  if  molten.  In  the  west,  the  ocean 
was  a  vast  flame  of  crimson.  As  Ralph  watched 
the  marvelous  contrast,  he  was  conscious  very 
soon  that  Bob  had  left  him,  and  that  the  next 
moment  somebody  had  approached  him.  He 
looked  up,  and  there  was  Yol. 

"  Could  I  say  a  word  ? "  asked  Rufus. 

"O  yes,  do!" 

The  man  was  very  pale  when  he  began  to 
speak.  His  face  was  something  like  that  white 
sea  heaving  between  the  vessel  and  the  moon. 
As  he  went  on,  his  face  flushed  with  emotion. 
Once  it  was  scarlet  as  the  western  sea,  for  it 
burned  with  some  feeling  of  shame. 

"  Chaplain,  I  have  been  an  awful  man,  and  in 


MIGHT  TEY..  131 

our  talk  now  ],  may  rip  out  a  lot  of  oaths  before 
I  get  through.  I  am  trying  to  keep  'em  down, 
swallow  'em.  If  I  do  say  any  thing  that  is  not 
right,  remember  I  try  to  put  it  down.  Fact  is, 
it  is  a  habit." 

Here  Yol  was  true  to  his  old  habit,  and  al- 
most involuntarily  made  his  language  emphatic 
with  an  oath. 

"  We  folks  who  swear — and  you  have  heard 
enough  of  'em — do  it  in  part  from  habit.  I 
don't  believe  those  who  are  swearers  always 
prefer  to  stay  so.  Habit,  you  know,  holds  like  a 
vise.  But  there ;  I  wanted  to  tell  you  how  I  got 
interested  in  your  meetin's.  I  was  opposed  to 
them.  But  last  Sunday  you  sang  a  kind  of 
child's  hymn,  and  do  you  know  how  it  takes 
hold  of  me  ?  I  came  round  to-day  to  hear  out- 
side, for  I  darsen't  go  down  to  sit  with  the  men, 
but  I  came  to  hear.  That  very  hymn  my  boy 
sang  when  dying,  chaplain." 

«  What  hymn  ? " 

Vol  spoke  in  a  hollow  tone  of  voice, 

"  O,  I  couldn't  give  it  now !  You  didn't 
know  I  had  a  home  once,  a  wife  and  child.  Of 
course  not.  Well,  the  wife  went,  and  the  boy, 
and  when  he  was  dying  I  swore  at  God,  to  think 


132  SAILOE-BOT  BOB. 

he  would  take  away  my  boy.  "What  did  that 
sick  little  feller  do  ?  He  tried  to  sing  what  you 
had  'tother  Sunday  and  to-day.  Yes,  when  his 
eyes  were  glassy  and  his  tongue  stammered, 
one  line  came  out  like  a  bird's  note,  and  then 
it  stopped.  His  voice  died  all  away,  he  was — 
gone — " 

Rufus  here  hung  his  head  and  wept  bitterly. 
Ralph  did  not  check  him,  but  let  his  grief  have 
its  way. 

"  Somehow,  after  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  oath 
I  took  against  God  has  had  the  mastery  of  me 
ever  since,  but  I  don't  know — that  hymn  broke 
me  up." 

"  What  was  it  ? "  Ralph  ventured  to  ask. 

Looking  off  toward  the  east,  and  not  the  west, 
toward  the  rising  light  of  hope,  and  not  that  of 
the  departing  day,  Rufus  Ring  repeated  these 
words : 

"  '  Jesus  loves  me,  and  he  watches 

Over  me  with  loving  eye ; 
And  he  sends  his  holy  angels 

Safe  to  keep  me  till  I  die. 
Jesus  loves  me — 0,  Lord  Jesus, 

Now  I  pray  thee,  by  thy  love 
Keep  me  ever  pure  and  holy 

Till  I  come  to  the*  above.' " 


MIGHT  TRY.  133 

O,  how  Ealph  wished  for  wisdom,  that  he 
might  know  what  to  say  !  He  felt  that  he 
must  say  something.  When  he  spoke,  his  words 
seemed  very  mean  and  powerless.  It  was  just 
this : 

"  Ruf us,  I — I — I'll  pray  for  you." 

As  Ralph  spoke,  he  wrung  the  hand  of  Rufus 
and  left  him.  In  a  moment  he  came  back. 

"  Rufus,"  he  said, ."  you  pray,  too." 

Rnfus  neither  nodded  his  head  in  assent  nor 
moved  his  lips  in  dissent.  He  only  stared  in 
silence  at  the  rippling  water.  Ralph  again  left 
him. 

One  day,  when  Ralph  and  Bob  were  up  on 
the  main  topgallant  yard  taking  in  sail,  the 
dark  blue  sea  tossing  under  them,  and  the 
clouds  in  a  darkening  sky  tossing  above  them, 
Bob  said  to  his  mate : 

"  Ralph,  what  is  the  matter  with  Volcano 
nowadays  ?  He  is  strangely  quiet,  for  him. 
He  don't  rip  out  as  he  used  to.  He  was  an 
awfnl  swearer." 

"He  never  said  he  would  do  it,  Bob,  mind 
you,  but  I  have  an  idea  he  has  been  praying." 

"  O,  that  is  it !  Thought  it  was  something, 
but  could'nt  say  what." 


134:  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Yes,  I  think  that  is  it.  It  steadies  him 
down  wonderfully.  It  steadies  any  one." 

Bob  in  silence  clutched  the  folds  of  the  sail, 
gathered  them  in,  and  secured  them.  In  si- 
lence, also,  he  descended  from  the  yard  when  his 
work  was  over  and  went  to  the  forecastle  and 
stretched  out  in  his  bunk. 

"  I  want  to  think,"  he  said. 

Lying  there  he  recalled  Jiis  conversation  with 
Ralph  about  Yolcano. 

"  Then  Yol  has  got  something  to  steady  him 
down,  something  to  keep  him  quiet,"  thought 
Bob.  "  Guess  I  need  what  Yol  has  got. 
Where's  the  girls'  Bible  ?  Now  where  shall  I 
read  first  ? " 

He  found  the  psalm  about  the  Good  Shepherd, 
read  it,  and  said : 

"  That  is  good !  That  is  good  !  I — I  suppose 
I  ought  not  to  be  satisfied  with  just  reading.  I 
need  something,  T-know  well  enough." 

Bob  Walker  needed  the  very  element  in  his 
life  which  Ruf  us  Ring  had  come  into  possession 
of — prayer,  like  a  rudder,  to  steady  and  hold 
him  in  a  course  where  every  day  good  impulses 
from  heaven  would  visit  him  even  as  wind  the 
sails  of  a  ship.  When  would  he  possess  this 


MIGHT  TRY.  135 

blessing  which,  possessing  him,  would  control 
all  the  movements  of  his  life  ? 

While  Bob  was  influenced  by  the  "  Sunday 
singing,"  Ralph  had  occasion  to  reflect  that 
"  might  try "  was  a  motto  worth  the  remem- 
brance and  a  repetition  in  other  things. 


136  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

BOUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT. 

FAB,  away  into  the  rough,  chilling  waters  of 
an  antarctic  sea  runs  the  nub  of  a  continent, 
Cape  Horn.  It  is  the  most  southerly  point  of 
the  far-reaching  continent  of  America.  Once, 
every  sail  that  went  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific  flew  along  the  waters  of  the  Strait  of 
Magellan.  The  famous  navigator,  Magellan,  was 
sailing  one  day  along  the  coast  of  South  Amer- 
ica, trying  to  find  a  break  in  its  long  wall  by 
which  he  could  reach  the  Moluccas — islands  in 
the  far  East.  This  project  of  the  sixteenth  cent- 
ury, to  find  the  East  by  going  west,  was  one  of 
vast  importance.  It  was  in  harmony  with  the 
theory  that  the  earth  was  round  as  an  orange, 
but  nobody  had  proved  it  by  actually  going  round 
the  world.  If  he,  Magellan,  could  strike  the 
Moluccas  by  steadfastly  striking  out  toward  the 
west,  a  nice  geographical  theory  would  be  ex- 
perimentally settled,  and  a  valuable  roadway  for 
commerce  opened.  He  must  therefore  go 


ROUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.      137 

through  America  or  round  it  somewhere.  He 
sailed  down  the  coast  of  South  America,  hunt- 
ing with  vigilant  eyes  for  a  gateway  to  the 
west,  and  finally  reached  Patagonia.  He  found 
a  strait,  which  he  eagerly  followed.  It  opened 
before  him  as  he  pressed  forward,  until  its  wa- 
ters widened  into  a  great  sea,  without  any  hint 
of  a  shore  beneath  the  misty  horizon.  So 
pleased  was  he  with  this  ocean  that  he  called  it 
the  Pacific,  and  over  it  he  went  joyfully  sailing. 
He  did  not  himself  live  to  reach  home,  but  his 
ship  came  again  to  Spain,  from  which  it  started, 
the  first  to  belt  the  world  with  the  silvery  fur- 
row of  its  long,  daring  voyage. 

Magellan  was  a  Portuguese  in  the  employ  of 
Spain,  and  for  over  ninety  years  all  the  world 
that  wanted  to  go  from  Europe  to  Asia  by  sail- 
ing west  followed  the  flag  that  opened  up  to 
commerce  that  far-off  Patagonian  strait. 

The  seventeenth  century  came,  bringing  with 
it  the  year  1616,  and  the  venturous  Hollander, 
William  Schouten.  He  came  into  those  bright, 
chilling  southern  waters  in  his  old  Dutch  tub. 
He  poked  farther  south  than  the  Strait  of  Ma- 
gellan, and  one  day  he  saw  what  ?  An  un- 
known nub  of  land,  the  rough  waters  vigor- 


138  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

ously  tossing  all  about  it.  He  pressed  past  it — 
and — hurrah  !  he  had  reached  the  big  Pacific 
by  doubling  that  unknown  cape !  He  grate- 
fully thought  of  the  old-fashioned  town,  Hoorn, 
where  a  Dutch  mother  rocked  his  cradle  when 
he  was  a  crying,  sleepy  baby,  and  from  a  Hol- 
land town  that  stubborn  projection  into  the  sea, 
that  nub  of  a  continent,  took  its  name,  Cape 
Hoorn,  or  Horn.  The  flag  of  Holland  had  out- 
flanked the  flag  of  Spain,  and  a  Schouten  won 
from  Magellan  a  division  of  the  honors  of  south- 
ern discovery. 

The  Andromeda  had  now  run  so  far  south 
that  the  doubling  of  the  cape  at  the  end  of  the 
inhabited  world  might  daily  be  expected. 

"We  can't  tell  what  weather  to  look  for," 
Captain  Granby  had  said  to  his  officers,  "  but 
we  will  be  ready  for  whatever  may  come  as  we 
double  old  Horn.  May  have  a  big  sou'-west 
blow,  cold  weather,  and  a  craft  outward  bound 
will  be  bothered  day  after  day,  just  layin'-to,  ice 
on  her  hull  and  riggin',  you  know.  We  will  be 
ready,  send  down  some  of  our  spars,  make  fast 
our  anchors,  boats,  too,  and  we  will  just  have  an 
eye  out  for  the  scuttle-butts  and  the  cook's 
galley." 


ROUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.      139 

Every  thing  was  made  tight,  and  the  Arv- 
dromeda  gallantly  headed  for  the  Pacific.  The 
weather  stiffened  off  Cape  Horn's  vixenish 
shores,  but  the  captain  said  it  would  be  "  a  blow 
from  the  sou'-east,  and  that  will  put  us  along 
lively."  It  was  nothing  short  of  "  lively  "  for 
two  days,  but  the  Andromeda  sped  gallantly 
away  and  came  out  in  waters  less  vexed  and 
violent. 

"Have  we  doubled  the  cape?"  Bob  asked 
Roaring  Ben. 

"  She's  doubled,  the  old  squaw !"  answered  the 
mate.  "  We  can't  get  along  without  her,  and  we 
have  little  peace  living  with  her.  However,  she 
is  left  behind." 

One  experience,  though,  at  this  part  of  the 
voyage  was  fated  not  to  be  left  behind.  It  fol- 
lowed Bob  even  as  a  long  furrow  of  foam  coldly 
rustles  in  the  rear  of  a  vessel's  flight. 

"  Cold  weather,"  exclaimed  Bob  one  morning, 
as  he  met  Steve  Wyckham  on  deck. 

"  Eh  ? "  replied  Steve. 

"  Cold,  I  say,"  and  Bob  slapped  his  hands  to- 
gether energetically. 

"  Why  don't  you  prayin'  folks  ask  for  warmer 
weather?"  said  Steve  sarcastically.  "I  notice 


140  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

you  talk  awful  poor  when  you  are  on  your  feet, 
but  down  on  your  knees  you  are  awful  rich." 

"  Perhaps,"  replied  Bob,  "  we  need  you  for 
an  example." 

"  Deliver  us  from  hypocrites ! "  shouted  Steve, 
moving  off. 

o 

"  You  mean  the  feller  needed  for  an  ex- 
ample." 

"  No,  I  don't.    I  don't  make  any  pretensions." 

Steve  walked  away  with  a  face  of  wrath. 

Bob  hardly  knew  how  to  interpret  the  mean- 
ing of  this  outburst  from  Steve.  The  latter  had 
once  been  very  friendly  to  Bob.  To  Ralph, 
Steve  was  almost  cringing,  an  attitude  that 
Ralph  had  reason  to  interpret  as  simply  a  bid 
by  Steve  for  the  favor  of  one  who  might  inter- 
est a  ship-owner  in  Steve's  favor.  While  Steve's 
demeanor  toward  Ralph  had  not  changed  in  its 
degree  of  warmth,  toward  Bob  there  had  been 
recently  a  sudden  cooling.  Steve  also  attempted 
before  Ralph  to  say  prejudicial  things  about 
Bob.  Ralph  did  not  allow  him  to  do  this  suc- 
cessfully, but  he  could  not  head  off  Steve's  un- 
friendly spirit.  That  remained,  and  Bob  and 
Ralph  both  noticed  it,  and  wondered  at  it. 
It  was  Steve's  evident  purpose  to  injure  Bob  in 


ROUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT. 

Ralph's  opinion.  Why  he  had  this  purpose,  he 
did  not  declare.  One  might  safely  have  attrib- 
uted it  to  Steve's  wish  in  general  to  do  harm 
wherever  he  had  an  opportunity.  He  was  not 
popular  with  the  crew.  He  was  regarded  as  a 
selfish,  treacherous  fellow,  very  changeful  in  his 
likes.  When  friendly,  he  was  suspected  of 
secret  unfriendliness,  and  only  when  hostile 
openly  was  he  regarded  as  sincere.  What  en- 
joyment could  one  take  in  his  company  ?  Bob 
was  destined  to  find  it  very  disagreeable  after 
this  passage  round  the  cape. 

The  morning  when  Bob  had  informed  Steve 
that  it  was  cold  weather,  and  in  return  had  re- 
ceived some  sarcastic  advice,  he  then  went  to  the 
forecastle,  saying  to  himself,  "  Old  pickles ! 
Well,  he  sha'n't  spoil  my  morning  for  me.  I 
am  not  going  to  lose  my  good  temper  for  him, 
and  I  wont  stay  cold  for  him.  I'll  just  step 
down  into  the  forecastle  and  look  in  my  chest 
for  those  new  mittens  Alma  handed  me  when  I 
left  home." 

Bob  had  been  wearing  an  old  pair  of  mittens 
when  he  felt  the  need  of  any  protection  for  his 
hands,  and  these  he  wore  sparingly,  at  first,  lest 
the  epithet  "  land-lubber  "  might  be  thrown  at 


142  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

him.  A  laud-lubber  no  longer,  lie  felt  that  ho 
might  wear  what  he  pleased.  He  now  opened 
his  chest  and  began  to  overhaul  his  few  but  pre- 
cious possessions.  Several  seamen  were  there 
in  the  forecastle,  lying  in  their  bunks  or  loung- 
ing on  any  chest  that  might  be  unoccupied. 
Rufus  Ring  was  there,  also  "  the  old  man," 
Wilson,  Horace  Haviland,  and  Ralph.  While 
Bob  was  hunting  through  his  chest,  whistling 
away  carelessly,  Steve  came  down  into  the  fore- 
castle. Bob's  whistle  abruptly  ceased.  He 
sprang  up,  flourished  the  new  mittens  which  he 
had  found,  and  shouted,  "  Here  are  the  beau- 
ties ! "  He  was  about  to  pull  one  over  his  hand 
when  a  silver  dollar  rolled  out  of  the  mitten, 
and,  as  it  struck  the  floor,  what  a  sharp,  metallic 
ring  it  gave ! 

"  Whew-w-w  !  "  exclaimed  Bob.  "  Aint  I 
rich?  O,  my!  Wonder  where  that  came 
from  ! " 

The  dollar  had  rolled  to  the  feet  of  Steve,  as 
if  he  were  a  magician  with  some  strange  power 
over  coin,  and  had  willed  it  that  way. 

"  I  can  tell  you  where  it  came  from  !  "  angrily 
shouted  Steve.  "Stolen  goods!  That's  what 
the  dollar  is." 


BOUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.      143 

Every  body  looked  up  in  surprise  at  this  ac- 
cusation save  Bob.  He  only  laughed. 

" Nonsense!''  he  said.  "Ha— ha!  That's 
ridiculous.  I  don't  know  any  thing  about  stolen 
goods.  Who  the  owner  of  that  dollar  may  be, 
is  a  mystery  to  me." 

"No  mystery  to  me.  If  any  body  takes  any 
thing  of  mine,  I  know  what  to  call  it." 

"  Nonsense ! "  said  Bob,  trying  to  treat  as  a 
triviality  a  matter  which  Steve  regarded  as  seri- 
ous. "  I  don't  know  any  thing  about  that  dollar. 
I  don't  know  how  it  came  there,  and — and — you 
don't  know  that  it's  yours,  either.  How  can 
you  tell  ? " 

"  How  can  I  tell  ? "  growled  Steve,  looking 
more  like  a  bull-dog  than  ever,  now  on  guard 
over  this  piece  of  money  lying  at  his  feet. 
"How  can /tell?  All,  notice!  Every  body! 
See,  see ! " 

All  in  the  forecastle  fastened  their  eyes  on 
Steve. 

"  I  claim  that  this  silver  dollar  is  mine,  for  I 
can  see  here,  from  the  way  the  light  strikes 
it,  that  it  has  a  cross  on  it.  And  look  again ! 
Listen,  every  body !  I'll  make  this  test.  Some 
one  of  you  may  take  up  that  dollar — I  won't 


144  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

touch  it — and  I  don't  hesitate  to  say  that  yon 
will  find  on  the  other  side  my  initials,  S.  TV.  W. 
All  I  ask  is  for  fair  play ! " 

One  more  person  had  now  entered  the  fore- 
castle, though  nobody  had  looked  up  to  see  who 
it  might  be.  When  Steve  had  finished,  the  new- 
comer caught  up  the  last  words,  "  fair  play," 
and  repeated  them.  All  in  the  forecastle  turned 
to  him,  and  saw  one  whose  hobby  was  "  fair 
play."  It  was  Roaring  Ben. 

"  Fair  play,"  said  Ben.  "  What  is  the  row  ? 
You  fellers  down  here  make  more  noise  than 
breakers  on  a  lee  shore." 

"  Row  is  jest  this  :  That  dollar  down  there — 
rnind  ye,  I  haven't  touched  it — is  mine.  It  rolled 
out  of  mittens  that  Bob  there  took  out  of  his 
chest,  and  yet  he  claims  to  know  nothin'  about 
it." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  once  more  exclaimed  Bob,  try- 
ing to  laugh.  "  I  don't  know  about  your  dol- 
lar." 

"  The  first  thing,"  said  Roaring  Ben,  in  a  very 
dignified  and  judicial  tone,  as  if  he  were  a  very 
judge,  "  the  first  thing,  Wyckham,  is  to  be  able 
to  prove  that  the  dollar  is  yours.  How  do  you 
know  that  ? " 


ROUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.       145 

Here  Roaring  Ben  placed  himself  by  the  side 
of  Bob,  as  if  he  meant  to  see  that  "fair  play", 
was  given  the  boy.  With  his  shaggy  head  he 
rose  up  like  a  lion  before  the  menacing  bull-dog 
guarding  the  dollar  at  his  feet. 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  Mind  ye,  I  haven't 
touched  it — " 

"  You  have  said  that  once  already.  That 
isn't  proof,"  was  the  reminder  of  the  lion  and 
judge. 

"  And  I  say  it  again  if  I  want  to.  I  do  say 
it  that  I  haven't  touched  it,  and  it  means  a  good 
deal  when  I  claim  that  if  you  turn  that  over 
you'll  find  my  initials  on  it,  S.  W.  W.  There ! 
I'll  rest  my  whole  case  on  that ;  yes,  rest  it 
there." 

Steve  said  this  with  great  complacency,  as  if 
he  not  only  had  a  good  case,  but  the  others 
must  see  that  he  could  talk  like  a  lawyer  in  the 
presence  of  this  great  judge,  Roaring  Ben. 

"  We  will  see  how  it  may  be,"  said  Roaring 
Ben.  Stooping  he  picked  up  the  dollar  that 
had  been  the  sudden  occasion  of  all  this  sudden 
uproar.  The  others  gathered  about  the  mate 
and  looked  with  him.  It  was  a  moment  of 

eager,  silent  suspense ! 
10 


14:6  SAILOR  BOY  BOB. 

"  Where  is  it  \ "  asked  the  mate,  after  looking 
and  turning  the  dollar  over—"  '  S.  W.  W. ; ' 
where  is  it  3 " 

"It  is  there !  I  can  make  it  out !  "  exclaimed 
Horace. 

Yes,  the  letters  "S.  W.  W."  were  on  the 
other  side  of  the  silver  dollar. 

"  Where  ?  where  ? "  asked  Bob  eagerly. 

"  There ! "  said  Roaring  Ben. 

Bob  could  trace  the  letters  on  the  dollar. 

"  Well,  what  does  that  prove  ? "  asked  Bob. 
"  I  don't  know  any  thing  about  it." 

"  One  can  say  this  much  :  it  don't  look  exact- 
ly right,"  said  the  judge. 

Bob  did  not  laugh  now,  but,  realizing  that  the 
matter  had  a  serious  aspect,  affirmed : 

"  Somebody  must  have  put  it  in  the  mitten." 

"  Of  course  1"  said  Steve  triumphantly.  "  Who 
stole  it,  hid  it !  That's  so ! " 

"  No,  sir  ! "  shouted  Bob  indignantly.  "  I 
could  take  my  oath — " 

"  I  wouldn't  take  any  oaths,"  said  Steve  sar- 
castically. 

"  But,"  said  Bob,  "  I  am  innocent,  and  God 
knows  it." 

Bob's  loud,  emphatic  disavowal  of  all  wrong, 


ROUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.       147 

his  look  of  abhorrence,  his  whole  attitude  of 
manly  protest,  had  its  effect  for  a  moment,  and 
there  was  silence  in  the  forecastle.  Steve  broke 
the  silence  : 

"  Well,  there  are  the  facts  !  Make  what  you 
can  out  of  them'." 

"  I  am  not  the  only  one  that  could  go  to  rny 
chest  and  put  a  dollar  in  my  mitten,"  said  Bob. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  went  to  your  chest, 
hunted  up  your  mittens,  and  put  the  dollar 
there  ? "  asked  Steve.  "  Do  you  keep  your  chest 
open  or  locked  ? " 

«  I— I— I—" 

"  Tell  me." 

"  I  generally  have  kept  it  locked." 

"  Ginerally  ?     I  guess  always." 

"  Not  the  first  part  of  the  voyage,  but  I  have 
the  last  part,  and  I  shall  always  now.  I  wont 
have  a  repetition  of  this  thing." 

"  Shouldn't  think  you  would  want  it,"  replied 
Steve,  with  a  sneer. 

The  situation  of  things  in  the  forecastle  was 
now  exceedingly  interesting.  All  felt,  for  even 
Bob  could  not  deny  it,  that  the  coin  must  be 
Steve's.  Otherwise  it  could  not  have  been  so 
exactly  identified  by  him.  The  point  to  be 


148  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

ascertained  was,  who  placed  it  in  Bob's  mit- 
ten ?  If  Bob  put  it  there,  he  was  a  thief.  If 
somebody  else  had  made  a  hiding-place  of  the 
mitten,  who  was  it? 

Ralph  now  stepped  forward  and  began  to 
speak.  The  others  listened  carefully,  for  he  was 
credited  by  the  crew  with  the  ownership  of  "a 
good  head,"  and  then  his  shipmates  had  confi- 
dence in  his  character.  Was  he  not  Squire 
Winthrop's  relative  ?  He  was  sure  of  a  hearing. 

"  I  don't  think  there  is  any  proof  that  either 
Bob  or  Steve  put  the  dollar  in  that  mitten, 
and  proof  is  what  we  want.  Bob  has  kept  his 
chest  locked  up  for  a  long  time,  so  that  another 
might  and  could  not  get — " 

"  Might  have  a  key  that  would  fit  it,"  said  one 
of  the  spectators. 

It  was  never  known  who  said  this.  Gradually 
almost  all  of  the  crew,  hearing  of  the  matter,  had 
flocked  down  into  the  forecastle.  Even  Captain 
Granby  had  arrived.  Somebody  in  the  rear  made 
this  last  remark,  implicating  another  than  Bob. 
The  voice  sounded  to  Bob  like  Horace  Havi- 
land's,  and  a  second  voice  murmured,  "  Might 
be  so." 

"  Until  we  know  positively  about  this  thing," 


ROUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.          149 

rang  out  Ralph's  clear,  echoing  voice,  "  let  us 
not  have  our  suspicions,  but  credit  both  sides 
with  the  fair  thing.  As  for  Bob,  does  it  seem 
reasonable  that  a  fellow  should  steal  and  then 
bring  the  money  forward  in  this  way  ?  Would 
he  be  such  a  fool  ? " 

"  No,"  replied  a  voice. 

"  I  would  like  to  ask  Steve  when  he  had  this 
dollar  last,"  said  Ralph. 

Steve  was  puzzled  to  answer  this,  and  stut- 
tered : 

"  I— I— I— can't  say." 

"  Did  you  or  have  you  had  it  during  the  voy- 
age?" 

"  N— n— o,  think  not." 

"  Did  you  have  it  in  New  York  ? " 

"  Don't  remember." 

Here  Captain  Granby,  who  had  been  picking 
up  the  threads  of  the  story,  and  had  woven  out 
some  idea  of  its  details,  interjected  this  inquiry : 

"  Sure  you  can't  remember  ? " 

"  Don't  remember." 

Here  a  voice  from  the  entrance  cried  out : 

"How  'bout  Oldburyport,  Stebe?  Hab  it 
dar  ? " 

Bob  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  voice,  and 


150  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

there  was  'Kastus,  the  black  cook,  his  big  eyes 
rolling  round  excitedly.  He  had  left  the  galley 
when  he  had  heard  about  matters  in  the  fore- 
castle, and  had  ventured  thus  far. 

"  Come,  come,  'Rastus,"  said  Captain  Granby 
reprovingly,  "  you  go  and  get  your  work  done 
up  in  the  galley.  I  will  ask  questions." 

The  cook  went  away  muttering  to  himself : 

"Don't  beliebe  dat  Bob  stole  de  dollar,  see 
if  I  do.  Cap'n  mout  jes'  lemine  ax  one  ques- 
tion." 

His  big,  clumsy  feet  shuffled  across  the  deck 
to  his  galley,  and  sliding  back  the  door  he  then 
drew  it  forward  with  a  slam.  Shut  up  with  his 
stove  and  his  soup,  he  was  not  seen  again  till 
dinner-time. 

"  I  would  like  to  have  the  question  of  ?Rastus 
put  to  my  accuser — if  he  was  in  a  condition  to 
remember  every  thing  that  happened  in  Oldbury- 
port,"  said  Bob,  giving  the  last  clause  in  half-sup- 
pressed tones. 

"  What  condition  ? "  shouted  Steve. 

"  You  know,"  replied  Bob. 

"  I  know  that  I  sha'n't  take  any  impudence 
from  you,"  again  shouted  Steve. 

"  If  a  young  mulatto  was  here,  I  wouldn't 


KOUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.         151 

need  to  ask  about  your  condition  as  I  saw  it," 
said  Bob. 

"  What  was  his  condition  ? "  asked  Captain 
Granby.  "I  heard  of  him  in  Oldburyport,  but 
did  not  see  him  there." 

"  Drunk,  sir.  How  did  he  know  what  he  did 
with  his  money  ? " 

There  was  laughter  among  the  crew.  Steve 
was  now  flaming. 

"I  am  not  here  to  be  overhauled.  Besides, 
what  has  that  got  to  do  with  the  mittens  ?  No 
matter  what  I  did  in  Oldburyport.  I — I — I — " 

"I  was  drunk,"  squeaked  a  voice.  Again 
there  was  a  laugh. 

"  Quiet !  "  ordered  the  captain  promptly. 
"  Give  every  body  a  chance." 

"  If  we  want  any  thing,  it  is  proof,"  declared 
Steve.  "  If  that  young  feller  can  prove  he 
is  innocent,  let  him  do  it.  It  is  my  dollar.  I 
am  not  anxious  to  have  it  again  till  I  get  into 
port.  The  cap'n  may  take  it  and  keep  it  for  me, 
and  in  the  meantime,  if  that — that — feller  can 
show  he  is  all  right  in  his  record,  let  him  do  it.". 

"  I  am  right,"  roared  Bob,  the  single  curl  of 
dark  hair  on  his  forehead  showing  prominently, 
as  it  always  did  when  he  was  excited. 


152  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  That  remains  to  be*  seen,"  said  Steve  saucily. 

"I  will  take  charge  of  this  case,"  remarked 
Captain  Granby.  "  If  we  can  get  light.  I  shall 
welcome  it.  Without  plain,  clear  evidence  I 
am  not  willing  to  believe  that  there  is  any  wrong- 
doing. We  will  wait,  men,  and  waiting  may 
bring  us  light  on  this  case." 

Light  on  that  case  !  If  ever  there  was  a  mys- 
tery, it  now  shrouded  with  its  shadows  the  dol- 
lar in  Captain  Granby's  keeping,  that  silver  coin 
cross-marked  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other 
bearing  the  letters  S.  W.  W.  Captain  Granby 
would  sometimes  take  it  out  from  a  little,  drawer 
in  his  desk  and  closely  examine  it. 

"Why  don't  you  speak,  and  tell  us  your  his- 
tory ? "  he  said  one  day.  "  Where  is  your  tongue  ? 
Were  you  ever  in  Oldburyport?  Were  you 
ever  in  New  York  ?  Were  you  ever —  anywhere  ? 
Did  Bob  put  you  in  those  mittens  ?  Did  Steve 
stick  you  there  ? " 

The  dollar  was  as  dumb  a  coin  as  ever  was 
struck  off  at  the  mint,  and  made  no  reply. 

This  case  aroused  an  intense  excitement 
among  the  crew.  Bob  was  popular,  and  the 
men  did  not  wish  to  think  him  guilty.  Still, 
there  was  an  under-current  of  suspicion  in  spite 


BOUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.      153 

of  their  assertion  of  his  honesty.  They  were 
ready  to  think  Steve  was  guilty  of  mischief  and 
somehow  had  introduced  the  coin  among  the 
articles  of  Bob's  clothing  in  his  chest.  They 
could  not,  however,  prove  what  some  were  anx- 
ious to  believe.  Steve  was  thus  under  a  cloud 
of  suspicion,  but  how  could  both  Bob  and  Steve 
be  guilty  ?  The  case  was  perplexing. 

The  coin  in  the  meantime  made  no  confession. 
When  Captain  Granby  opened  his  drawer  contain- 
ing the  dollar,  a  ray  of  sunshine  stealing  through 
the  little  cabin-window  might  fall  on  the  coin,  as 
if  to  say,  "  Here  is  light !  Now,  shed  some  your- 
self !  Speak  ! "  It  still  was  dumb.  A  moon- 
beam came  through  the  same  window  one  night. 
It  touched  with  its  silver  wand  the  dead  dollar, 
and  left  it  dead  and  dumb.  It  still  had  no  light 
to  give,  no  word  to  say.  For  any  thing  it 
lacked,  the  crew  made  up  in  the  use  of  their 
busy  tongues.  Others  far  away  were  set  at  last 
to  talking. 

Captain  Granby  had  said  to  the  men,  ""We 
shall  be  likely  to  meet  a  homeward-bound  vessel. 
Make  up  a  mail  and  I  will  get  the  captain  of 
the  craft  to  take  our  letters  home." 

Steve  in  that  way  sent  to  relatives  a  long  ac- 


154  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

count  of  his  fine  success  as  a  whaleman,  but 
said  he  had  been  shabbily  treated  by  an  Old- 
buryport  boy,  a  Bob  Walker,  a  sort  of  a  low 
chap  whom  lie  had  caught  stealing.  Bob  and 
Ralph,  not  thinking  that  any  ugly  stories  which 
needed  correction  might  go  home,  wrote  about 
their  life  in  general,  and  said  nothing  about  the 
charge  of  stealing  brought  against  Bob. 

Bob  reported  to  Alma  that  going  to  sea  was 
"  sort  of  tough,"  but  he  felt  he  was  earning  some 
money,  and  that  was  a  compensation.  He  re- 
ported that  Ralph's  health  was  much  better,  and 
that  the  crew  called  him  "chaplain,"  and  Bob 
also  gave  an  account  of  the  Sunday  singing. 
Ralph  wrote  to  Squire  Wiuthrop  that  he  thought 
Bob  was  making  a  splendid  sailor,  and  he  felt 
also  that  Bob  every  way  was  doing  well.  If 
the  two  boys  had  known  what  a  news-bag  Steve 
would  send  to  his  relatives,  they  would  have  made 
some  reply  to  his  charge.  As  it  was,  Ralph  re- 
marked to  himself,  "I  am  glad  I  haven't  got  to 
say  any  thing  about  Bob's  affair.  I  can't,  can't 
think  Bob  is  guilty,  and  yet  if  I  had  to  allow 
that  a  dollar  belonging  to  another  was  found  in 
Bob's  chest,  I  might  not,  if  I  tried,  make  people 
at  home  feel  as  I  do.  I  believe  he  will  turn  out 


ROUND  THE  NUB  OF  A  CONTINENT.      155 

all  right  by  and  by,  and  can  make  others  see  it ; 
but  now,  I  can  prove  nothing." 

The  Wyckham  mail-bag  went  off,  therefore, 
with  its  grave  charges,  as  if  stuffed  with  bombs. 
The  Wyckham  mail  was  opened  and  the  bombs 
thrown  round  to  strike  and  explode  wherever 
they  would.  O,  what  sorrow  they  occasioned  in 
the  old  house  that  the  Walkers  occupied,  for 
there  the  bombs  struck  and  wounded  without 
rnercy.  We  will  leave  the  ship  on  the  Pacific 
awhile,  and  follow  the  vessel  carrying  the  Wyck- 
ham mail  and  that  of  the  others  to  the  United 
States. 


156  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTEE   X. 

A   CLOUD   THAT    GROWS. 

IT  was  a  day  on  the  edge  of  winter.  The  two 
elms  in  front  of  the  old  house  next  to  "  the 
brick  block !'  were  in  a  continual  unrest,  so 
windy  was  the  day.  They  faced  one  another, 
and  with  long,  leafless  branches,  as  if  with  the 
arms  of  pugilists,  they  threshed  one  another.  The 
air  was  raw,  chilly,  penetrating.  The  sky  was 
uneven,  and  restless  with  the  passage  of  clouds 
that  moved  in  waves.  It  was  one  of  those  days 
when  if  every  thing  be  pleasant  inside  the  house, 
warm  and  comfortable,  and  if  no  sickness  or 
sorrow  be  there,  then  any  outside  discomfort 
never  seems  to  cross  the  threshold.  There  is  a 
satisfaction  even  in  thinking  it  is  so  chilly  and 
unattractive  without.  We  face  at  twilight  the 
open  fire  and  pleasurably  watch  the  flames  play 
up  into  the  broad-mouthed  chimney,  and  are 
rather  glad  that  there  is  a  black,  bleak  night 
darkening  out-doors.  It  will  make  our  open  fire 
all  the  more  agreeable.  Let  trouble,  though,  be 


A  CLOUD  THAT  GROWS.  157 

in-doors,  and  then  it  seems  as  if  the  weather  had 
got  into  the  house.  The  fire  looks  dull.  There 
are  hoarse,  melancholy  voices  roaring  down  the 
chimney.  There  is  a  cold  draught  felt  as  we 
hurry  through  the  hall. 

For  some  reason  Alma  felt,  this  particular 
day  when  our  chapter  opens,  that  the  ugly 
weather  was  getting  into  the  house.  She  had 
no  definite  reason  for  saying  so.  Things  out- 
wardly were  moving  along  agreeably.  Her  fa- 
ther had  sufficient  work  as  janitor  of  the  brick 
block  to  insure  the  payment  of  the  rent  of  the 
house,  and  there  was  a  surplus,  even,  to  go  to- 
ward bread  and  butter.  Alma's  school  brought 
in  a  little  harvest  of  money,  and  the  store,  too 
contributed  quite  a  satisfactory  quota  of  profit. 
Squire  Winthrop,  in  accordance  with  a  previous 
arrangement,  allowed  Mr.  Walker  to  draw  a 
certain  fraction  of  the  wages  that  would  be  due 
Bob,  month  by  month.  All  these  re-enforce- 
ments made  a  power  strong  enough  to  push 
hungry  winter-weather  back  from  the  door-step 
and  keep  its  growls  outside  the  house.  This  day, 
however,  Alma,  hurrying  through  the  hall -in  the 
morning,  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  said, 
"  Ugh !  winter  is  coming  fast  1 "  The  portrait 


158  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

seemed  more  unfriendly  than  usual.  That  old 
Winthrop  ancestor — if  he  were  one— scowled 
more  seriously  over  his  shoulder,  and  seemed  to 
be  saying  more  emphatically  than  ever,  "  This 
young  lady  is  not  wanted  here.  I  belong 
here." 

Then  Mary  Haviland  came  into  the  little  shop 
early.  Her  gray  hair  was  confusedly  fluttering 
about  the  rim  of  her  bonnet,  and  her  sharp  blue 
eyes,  while  kindly,  had  a  startled,  restless  look. 
Somehow  Mary  seemed  to  be  sure  to  come  when 
trouble  was  coming,  a  coincidence  that  the  ob- 
serving Alma  had  noticed  a  number  of  times. 

"  You  all  well  up  here  \ "  said  Mary,  looking 
about  uneasily,  as  if  expecting  to  find  a  sick 
member  of  the  family. 

"  "Why,  yes,"  said  Alma. 

"  Heard  your  father  cough  on  the  street  yes- 
terday," said  Mary. 

"  Dare  say  you  did,  Mary,  but  folks  cough 
and  yet  are  not  sick." 

"Yes,  y— e— s,"  said  Mary,  "but  I  didn't 
know." 

When  she  went  out  she  glanced  around  the 
shop  as  if  expecting  still  to  find  that  invalid. 

"  Sympathetic    creature  !  "     thought    Alma. 


A  CLOUD  THAT  GROWS.  159 

"  Now  she  heard  father  cough,  and  she  felt 
troubled  and  came  to  inquire  about  him.  That 
is  all  there  is  to  it.  I  feel  relieved.  How  pleas- 
ant it  is  beginning  to  look  out-doors.  Weather 
changing  ? " 

No,  there  had  been  no  change  in  the  disa- 
greeable weather.  The  sky  was  like  a  troubled 
sea.  The  wind  moaned.  The  contentious  elms 
still  quarreled  with  one  another,  beating  as  they 
roared  and  roaring  as  they  beat. 

"  Yes,"  said  Alma,  rocking  contentedly  in  a 
chair  that  had  been  very  softly  cushioned  by 
her  mother,  "  it  is  beginning  to  look  quite  pleas- 
ant out-doors." 

She  had  no  sooner  finished  this  sentence  than 
a  hack  came  splashing  through  the  mud  accumu- 
lating in  the  street,  and  it  halted  at  the  door  of 
the  old  house. 

"  Why,  what  is  that  ? "  asked  Alma,  not  ac- 
customed to  see  hacks  halting  at  the  door  of  a 
home  too  poor  to  think  of  riding. 

The  driver  had  dismounted,  and,  turning  the 
knob  of  the  hack-door,  let  out  two  men. 

"  One  is  Dr.  Bates,"  thought  Alma. 

And  these  two  assisted  a  third  to  dismount. 
Then  they  led  him  toward  the  house. 


160  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Why,  it  is  father  ! "  she  exclaimed,  spring- 
ing up  from  her  chair,  and  rushing  to  the  front 
door.  "  Something  has  happened  ! " 

The  sparkle  died  out  of  her  rich,  lustrous 
eyes,  and  the  glow  faded  from  her  cheeks  like 
all  the  crimson  from  the  sunset  sky. 

Dr.  Bates  and  his  assistant,  Thomas  Haviland, 
brother  of  Horace  and  Mary,  almost  lifted  Mr. 
Walker  in  their  arms,  so  helpless  was  he  when 
he  reached  the  steps. 

"  Why,  father,  what  is  the  matter  ? "  asked 
Alma,  stretching  out  her  arms. 

"I  will  tell  you,  Miss  Walker.  Just  show 
us  a  room  where  you  have  a  bed  or  lounge," 
said  Dr.  Bates  calmly. 

"  Up  this  way  ! "  said  Alma,  going  forward 
to  the  broad  stair-way,  disregarding  the  portrait 
frowning  without  mercy  at  this  intrusion. 

The  sick  man  was  carried  to  his  own  room, 
and  there  Mrs.  Walker,  who  fluttered  nervously 
about  him,  made  him  comfortable. 

Alma  led  Dr.  Bates  out  into  the  upper  hall 
and  asked  him  what  this  sudden  conveyance  of 
her  father  to  his  home  might  mean. 

"  I  don't  like  to  say  just  what  I  think  it  is, 
Miss  Walker,  but  the  symptoms  are  not  good. 


A  CLOUD  THAT  GROWS.  161 

Had  dizziness — he  was  attacked  in  the  hall  up 
in  the  brick  block — and  I  was  summoned,  and 
found  him  almost  unconscious.  Don't  be  im- 
mediately alarmed.  He  will  recover  so  as  to 
be  a  partial  invalid,  and,  by  keeping  quiet,  can 
move  about  the  house  and  be  comfortable.  He 
will  not  be  able,  though,  to  do  any  hard  work, 
and  he  must  be  particular  about  his  diet,  avoid- 
ing excitement.  He  may  live  years,  and  yet  he 
might — not.  Now  take  it  as  calmly  as  pos- 
sible." 

"  There  is  no  other  way,"  said  Alma,  trying 
to  be  calm. 

And  yet  all  the  time  she  felt  a  heavy  burden 
coming  down  toward  her,  a  load  out  of  the 
stormy  sky,  broadening,  lowering,  dropping 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  she  knew  it  must 
rest  on  her  shoulders,  and  she  must  carry  it 
patiently. 

At  noon  something  else  happened.  Two  of 
the  children  burst  into  the  house  excitedly 
shouting : 

"  Mother  !     Alma !  " 

"  Hash  !  hush  ! "  said  Alma  meeting  this 
eager  quantity  of  youthful  life,  "  father  is  not 

well." 
11 


162  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  He  sick  abed  ?"  asked  Billy. 

"  He  is  now  sitting  in  his  chair,"  replied  Alma. 

The  children  did  not  seem  to  think  they 
needed  to  worry  about  an  invalid  only  sick 
enough  to  occupy  a  chair  and  not  to  be  in  bed. 
Alma  was  moving  away  when  Ted  said : 

"  You — don't — don't  want  to  hear  about  the 
Andromeda,  I  suppose  ?  " 

Alma  turned  swiftly : 

"  The  Andromeda  f  "What  do  you  mean  ? 
She  is  not  wrecked  ? " 

Alma  seemed  to  have  become  just  two  dark 
eyes  staring  out  of  a  face  white  as  a  snow- 
drift. 

"Wrecked?  Because  a  vessel's  heard  from 
that's  no  sign  she's  wrecked !  They  were  talk- 
ing about  it  at  my  school — the  scholars  were 
and  the  teacher — and  she's  been  spoken  to." 

"Who?    The  teacher?" 

"  No,  the  Andromeda,  Alma,  the  Androm- 
eda what  Bob  went  in,  and  the  Willoughbys 
have  got  news ;  and,  Alma,  where  are  our  let- 
ters ? " 

"  Did  you  ask  at  the  post-office  when  you 
came  by  ? " 

"Yes,   and   the   post-master   said  he   didn't 


A  CLOUD  THAT  GROWS.  163 

know    about    letters    from    the    Andromeda. 
Cross  old  budget ! " 

"  O,  well,  we  shall  get  them  when  they  come. 
Well,  what  did  the  Willoughbys  hear  2 " 
"  She — she's  been  spoken — to— and — " 
"  Well,  do  speak  !     Are  they  all  well  ? " 
"  I  guess  so.     You  mean  the  Willoughbys  ? " 
"No,  no,  but  Bob  and  R — Ka — Squire  Win- 
throp's — grandson  or — or  relative  ? " 
"  O,  yes.  I  think  so ;  but,  Alma — " 
Ted  had  been  speaking  in  an  absent-minded 
way,  looking  about  him  as  if  to  see  who  might 
be  listening,  and  then  he  stepped  slowly,  reluc- 
tantly, up  to  Alma  and  said  in  a  hollow,  fright- 
ened tone  of  voice : 

"  Alma,  do — do  you  believe  it  about  Bob  ? " 
"  Believe  what  ?      Tell  me  quick,  Ted  !      I 
can't  seem  to  get  any  thing  out  of  you." 

If  Alma  was  impatient,  let  it  be  remembered 
that  she  had  borne  much  that  day,  and  she  now 
felt  instinctively  that  the  shadow  of  another 
trouble  was  coming. 

"  Why,  one  of  the  boys  came  up  to  me  and 
sort  of  sneered  and  guessed  if  his  brother  went 
to  sea,  guessed  his  brother  wouldn't  steal  — 
and—" 


164:  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

"  Why,  Ted  ! "  shrieked  Alma,  and  so  down 
upon  the  poor  girl's  shoulders  another  great 
burden  descended. 

It  seemed  to  be  a  part  of  the  wild,  winter- 
like  day,  a  part  of  the  storm  that  broke  in  all 
its  fury  the  subsequent  night,  the  wind  howl- 
ing along  the  deserted  street,  the  rain  splashing 
somberly  from  the  eaves,  and  the  elms  con- 
tending with  one  another  more  savagely  than 
ever. 

Alma  did  not  retire  early  that  night.  Her 
father  was  very  comfortable  but  weak,  and  in- 
disposed to  say  any  thing.  The  excitement  had 
not  been  kindly  to  Mrs.  Walker's  nerves,  and 
one  of  her  awful  headaches  must  be  nursed  by 
Alma. 

At  last  the  old  Walkers  and  the  young  Walk- 
ers all  were  asleep,  and  Alma  went  round  the 
house  to  see  if  doors  were  locked  and  windows 
were  secured.  She  was  passing  through  the  big 
lower  hall,  lamp  in  hand,  and  gave  one  glance 
at  the  portrait.  She  had  grown  into  the  habit 
of  doing  it — the  face  had  a  sort  of  attraction  for 
her.  That  unknown  Winthrop — if  such — was 
no  more  affable  and  placable  than  before. 

"  What  is  that  ? "   asked   Alma,  noticing  a 


A  CLOUD  THAT  GKOWS.  165 

piece  of  paper  on  the  floor  directly  under  the 
portrait. 

It  was  a  tattered,  yellow  bit,  and  as  Alma 
picked  it  tip  she  noticed  that  its  edges  were 
broken,  very  much  like  an  old  person  whose 
faculties  have  been  invaded  by  years,  and  rents 
are  made  here  and  there.  She  lifted  the  por- 
trait— how  it  seemed  to  scowl ! — and  saw  another 
bit  of  paper  clinging  to  the  frame,  but  a  blank. 
She  took  both  bits  into  the  back-parlor,  now  a 
school-room  by  day  and  a  refuge-room  by  night. 
Sitting  down  she  joined  these  fragments,  and 
then  she  held  this  yellow,  tattered  slip  up  to  the 
light,  and  read  on  it  these  faded  words :  "  John 
Bevan." 

"  Now  all  of  this  must  have  .fallen  from  the 
back  of  the  portrait,"  concluded  Alma,  "  tucked 
away  in  the  frame.  I  wonder  if  it  is  the  man's 
name !  I  will  ask  Squire  Winthrop  sometime. 
To  keep  it  safe,  I  will  put  it  in  my  bureau 
drawer." 

She  forgot  to  inquire* of  Squire  Winthrop 
what  the  name  might  mean,  and  there  in  the 
secret  dusk  of  that  drawer  was  destined  to  re- 
main unnoticed  a  very  important  bit  of  testi- 
mony, sure,  however,  to  be  needed  sometime. 


166  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Would  it  ever,  though,  be  taken  out  of  its  hid- 
ing-place ? 

Alma  sat  *alone  while  others  were  sleeping, 
while  the  storm  was  driving  and  howling  about 
the  house,  while  the  rain  knocked  rudely  upon 
the  panes  as  if  for  admittance.  Two  burdens 
in  one  day!  There  was  her  father's  sickness, 
involving  the  loss  of  work  that  had  secured  the 
family  this  comfortable  old  home,  and  there  was 
the  story  about  Bob — said  to  be  a  thief,  and 
away  off  somewhere  on  the  dark  sea. 

"  I  can't  believe  it  of  Bob,"  she  asserted. 

Then  she  had  a  question :  Why  should  all 
this  come  upon  the  family,  upon  her  mother, 
upon  Alma?  Were  not  the  burdens  large 
enough  before  ?  Did  not  God  know  what  was 
coming?  Could  he  not  have  prevented  it? 
Why  did  he  let  it  happen  ?  Was  not  God  in- 
terested ?  And  to  Alma,  sitting  in  the  silent 
back-parlor  that  night,  something  seemed  to  say 
that  God  was  heavenly  Father  still,  that  he  was 
interested,  that  it  was  his  burden,  that —  She 
stopped  questioning.  If  all  this  was  a  burden 
her  heavenly  Father  was  interested  in,  she 
would  carry  it  with  him  and  in  his  strength, 
and  would  try  to  bring  good  out  of  it  even  as 


A  CLOUD  THAT  GROWS.  167 

lie  purposed,  and  now  she  would  go  to  sleep  on 
the  pillow  of  that  thought.  She  took  up  her 
lump,  went  into  the  hall,  and  climbed  the  broad 
old  stairway.  She  did  not  stop  to  see  if  John 
Bevan  was  looking  at  her.  She  did  not  think 
of  him. 


168  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTEK  XI. 

A  BREAK  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

QARDINIUS  WALKER  soon  was  walking 
O  about  the  house  again,  pale,  feeble,  reminded 
by  the  doctor  that  he  must  be  "  careful,"  and 
living  as  it  were  under  the  sword  of  Damocles. 
He,  we  remember,  was  the  courtier  and  flat- 
terer who  thought  his  royal  master,  Dionysius, 
ruler  of  Syracuse,  was  an  exceedingly  fortunate 
and  happy  man,  having  a  throne  under  him. 
Dionysius  invited  him  to  a  feast  abounding  in 
the  equipments  and  viands  of  royalty.  In  the 
midst  of  all  this  show  Damocles  looked  up  and 
saw  a  startling  sight — that  of  a  sharp-edged 
sword  hanging  above  his  head  by  a  single  horse- 
hair !  The  subject's  views  of  royalty  were  very 
seriously  affected.  It  was  in  the  shadow  of  a 
very  grave  and  threatening  fate  that  Sardinius 
"Walker  now  lived. 

One  winter  day,  when  a  warm,  southerly  rain 
made  the  out-door  atmosphere  soft  and  mild,  he 
thought  he  would  like  to  venture  out  on  the 


A  BREAK  IN  THE  CLOUD.  1G9 

street ;  but  the  walking  was  very  bad,  and  lie 
knew  he  must  stay  in-doors. 

"Why,  father,"  remarked  Alma,  who  some- 
how was  the  one  to  see  what  was  possible,  "  you 
might  pnt  on  your  overcoat  and  go  up  garret 
and  walk  there  for  exercise." 

"So  I  could,"  said  her  father.  "  I  haven't 
been  up  for  some  time.  If  it  wasn't  for  the 
mist  I  might  look  out  of  the  window  and  see 
if  the  Andromeda  was  anywhere  near  port." 

This  playful  humor  Alma  was  glad  to  see. 

"  He  doesn't  know  what  those  Willoughbys 
have  been  reporting  round  about  poor  Bob," 
thought  Alma.  "  Don't  I  wish  the  Andromeda 
would  come  home  soon  !  " 

She  quickly  heard  her  father's  step  on  the 
stairs  leading  to  the  garret  door.  Then  at  in- 
tervals she  heard  a  dull,  heavy  sound  higher  up, 
and  knew  that  her  father  was  exercising  in  the 
garret. 

"  This  is  good  ! "  he  said,  walking  up  and 
down  the  bare  floor  of  old  brown  boards.  "  I 
like  this.  I  believe  I  am  good  for  something 
yet." 

He  went  to  the  window  and  looked  seaward, 
but  he  could  not  penetrate  the  wall  of  gray  mist 


170  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

thrown  up  there.  Then  he  turned  and  walked 
back  toward  a  window  looking  down  into  the 
yard  and  garden.  All  the  while  the  rain  beat 
on  the  roof  an  accompanying  tune  by  which  the 
invalid  could  march.  As  he  walked,  he  looked 
up  at  the  rafters,  from  which  hung  bundles  of 
spearmint,  thorough  wort,  and  pennyroyal,  gath- 
ered up  by  Alma  and  Mary  Haviland  in  the 
pastures  beyond  the  town.  Then  he  glanced  at 
a  pile  of  old  furniture  left  there  by  Squire  Win- 
throp  years  ago,  and  among  the  relics  was  a  box. 
The  lid  was  off,  and  naturally  he  glanced  at  the 
contents. 

"  Books  ! "  he  said. 

He  pulled  the  box  forward  carefully,  remem- 
bering the  sword  of  Damocles,  it  would  seem, 
and,  bringing  the  books  into  the  fuller  light  of 
the  back  window,  examined  them. 

"  An  old  arithmetic ! "  he  exclaimed.     "  Geog- 

O 

raphy  !     Classical  dictionary  ! " 

This  last  he  handled  with  delight,  remember- 
ing his.  studies  at  a  certain  academy. 

"  But  what  is  this  ? "  he  asked.  "  Genealogy 
of  the  Winthrop  family !  Must  be  interesting. 
Somebody  has  made  additions  on  the  margin ; 
notes  written  there  by  some  one.  I  wonder  if 


A  BEEAK  IN  THE  CLOUD.  171 

Squire  Winthrop  remembers  this  book  is  here. 
Guess  I  will  take  it  down  arid  show  it  to  the 
folks.  Quite  a  find !  " 

He  replaced  the  other  books  in  the  box  and 
came  down  the  garret  stairway,  wrapped  in  his 
overcoat,  carrying  the  genealogy  in  his  hand. 
There  at  the  foot  of  the  dark  stairs,  suddenly 
appearing  like  a  beautiful  star  amid  the  shadows, 
was  Alma's  bright,  pure  face. 

"  Got  something  interesting  i"  she  asked  in 
her  animated,  cheerful  way.  "  That  is  good, 
father.  Come  down  stairs  and  enjoy  it." 

"  I  will,  Alma.  I  wanted  to  show  it  to  you 
and  mother.  Something  very  interesting,  I 
think." 

"  Do  come,  then,  where  mother  and  I  are.  I 
have  no  school  to-day,  and  I  am  with  mother 
in  the  shop.  "We  are  all  alone.  Dear  me ! 
Only  ducks  will  come  out  in  this  rain,  so  we 
sliaVt  be  interrupted  one  bit.  Won't  we  have 
a  nice  time  ! " 

She  took  her  father  by  the  arm,  looking  up 
into  his  face  with  such  trust  and  affection  that  it 
went  to  the  poor  invalid's  heart,  and  he  mur- 
mured, 

"  You  are  a  real  good  girl,  Alma.'* 


172  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Only  when  I  have  you  to  tell  me  so.  It  is 
all  a  make-believe  on  my  part,  you  know.  Now 
you  see  how  comfortable  we  are,  mother  and 
I—" 

It  was  cozy  in  the  little  shop  to  which  the 
cottons  and  calicoes,  ribbons  and  yarns,  mittens 
and  scarfs,  gave  a  look  of  comfort  and  warmth, 
and  this  was  increased  by  the  open  fire  of  coal 
in  a  little  grate.  Mrs.  Walker  was  sewing  by  a 
window.  Her  face  was  the  only  uncomfortable- 
looking  object  in  the  room,  but  it  brightened 
when  she  saw  her  husband's  eager  interest  and 
Alma's  smiles. 

"  There,  mother,"  said  Mr.  Walker,  sitting 
down  in  a  rocking-chair  Alrna  brought  out  of 
the  sitting-room,  "  I  found  something  up  garret 
that  I  know  wrll  interest  you.  It  is  an  old 
genealogy  of  the  Winthrops." 

"  You  don't  say,  Sardinins ! " 

"  Tucked  away,  mother,  in  an  old  box  up- 
stairs. See  !  Got  notes  in  it ! " 

As  he  turned  over  the  pages  for  his  wife's  in- 
spection she  said  : 

"  May  find  something  here  about  the  Wins- 
lows  ;  and  it  is  excellent  blood,  and  your  great — 
let  me  see — want  to  have  it  exact — your  great- 


A  BREAK  IN  THE  Ctouo.  173 

grandmother  was  a  Winslow,  Alma.  Yes,  we 
have  real  good  blood." 

"  Good  as  the  Winthrops  ? " 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course,  and  what  is  more,  our 
family— the  Winslows — married  into  the  Wiii- 
throps,  you  know.  May  never  do  it  again, 
but—" 

Here  Alma  turned  and  looked  out  of  the 
window. 

"But  they  have  done  it  once.  May  be  the 
old  genealogy  will  tell  about  it." 

"  It  will  if  it  is  good  for  any  thing,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Walker.  "I  will  find  out,  Win- 
throp,  if  you  are  an  Alma !  Ha-ha !  Alma,  I 
will  find  out,  I  mean,  if  you  are  a  Winthrop.  I 
have  heard  it  said  that  we  have  Winthrop  blood 
in  us." 

All  three  laughed.  In  the  midst  of  the  rain 
it  was  really  pleasant  to  hear  the  three  laughing, 
especially  when  one  of  the  three  sat  under  the 
sword  of  Damocles ;  when,  too,  out  in  the  hall 
was  a  picture  that  scowled  at  Alma  and  asserted 
that  she  did  not  belong  there  in  that  Winthrop 
house.  The  three  in  the  shop  laughed  again. 
In  the  midst  of  the  merriment,  who  was  it,  tall, 
stately,  stooping  a  little  to-day,  that  came  up  the 


174  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

door-steps?  "Who  said  only  ducks  would  come 
out  in  the  rain  ?  "Was  this  a  duck  ? " 

"  Hush !     It  is  Squire  Winthrop ! "  said  Alma. 

"While  they  were  wondering  whether  it  was 
as  a  customer  or  a  caller  that  he  appeared,  the 
squire  answered  this  question  by  coining  into 
the  shop. 

"  O ! "  he  said.  "  You  all  here  ?  It  does  my 
eyesight  good  to  see  you  all  so  happy.  Mr. 
"Walker,  you  are  gaining,  really.  And  Alma, 
and  Mrs.  Walker,  you  both  look  well.  I  just 
stepped  in — your  Aunt  Mary  wanted  a  skein  of 
yarn,  and  I  said  I  would  get  it  for  her." 

The  squire  had  a  way  of  talking  that  was  as 
easy  if  not  as  vivacious  as  Alma's.  There  was 
always,  however,  an  accompaniment  of  dignity. 
He  never  seemed  to  forget  that  he  was  a  Win- 
throp. It  was  a  fact  worth  remembering.  The 
duck,  though,  who  had  ventured  out  to  make 
this  purchase,  had  something  in  mind  besides  a 
skein  of  yarn  for  "  your  Aunt  Mary." 

He  had  been  considering  the  situation  of  the 
Walkers,  and  what  they  would  do,  now  that  Mr. 
Walker  could  do  nothing. 

"  I  want  to  help  that  Alma,"  he  had  silently 
remarked  to  Squire  Winthrop,  "  for  she  is  mak- 


A  BREAK  IN  THE  CLOUD.  '  175 

ing  a  brave  struggle.  I  wish  she  was  my  daugh- 
ter. Couldn't  I  fix  this  matter  then  !  As  it  is, 
what  can  be  done  ?  I  will  drop  round  and  see 
them." 

Not  only  "yarn,"  but  the  future  was  in  his 
mind  when  he  made  his  appearance. 

"  Squire,"  now  observed  Mr.  Walker,  pulling 
from  the  rear  of  his  coat-skirts  the  genealogy 
which  he  had  timidly  secreted  when  the  squire 
came  into  the  room,  "I  found  this  up  garret. 
No  objection  to  our  looking  at  it  ?  " 

"  O,  no ;  look  all  you  please.  Indeed !  The 
old  "Winthrop  genealogy  !  I  didn't  know  a  copy 
was  up  in  the  attic.  You  see,  I  have  one  at 
home.  Ah,  I  had  forgotten  about  these  notes 
on  the  margin,  and  so  on  !  They  are  very  val- 
uable. I  have  intended  some  time  to  give  them 
to  the  printer  and  let  him  preserve  them  in 
more  durable  form.  Why,  I  am  really  very 
glad  to  see  this." 

"  Those  notes,  Squire  ?  They  are  pretty  old, 
and  I  should  say  the  sooner  printed  the  better." 

"  See  here,  Sardinius !  I  have  it  now,  I  have 
it  now ! " 

The  squire  spoke  triumphantly,  for  he  sawlhe 
solution  of  the  problem  that  had  perplexed  him. 


176  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  I  want  to  make  you  an  offer,  if  your  health 
will  permit.  Just  take  off  in  a  clear,  neat  hand 
all  these  notes  made  on  the  margin  anywhere. 
Write  them  out  fully,  and  I  will  tell  you  how. 
Take  time  for  it.  I  want  to  have  all  these  notes 
printed  some  time — made  into  an  appendix — and 
then  they  can  be  easily  kept.  You  can  favor 
yourself  all  you  please,  and  work  when  you  feel 
like  it  and  drop  it  when  weary.  I  don't  doubt 
but  that  you  will  earn  enough  to  pay  for  your 
rent  for  a  year  to  come." 

What?  All  that  compensation  for  a  task  that 
would  not  keep  a  good  copyist  at  work  a  month  ! 
Did  Alma  hear  aright?  Did  her  father  and 
mother  hear? 

"  Isn't  the  squire  good ! "  was  the  silent  lan- 
guage of  six  happy  eyes.  When  the  squire  had 
gone,  three  tongues  were  very  busy  sounding 
his  praises.  Sardinius  Walker  had  sometimes 
doubted  if  the  world  had  given  him  a  fair  chance. 
If  the  world  did  feel  penitent  and  disposed  to 
rectify  its  mistake,  the  late  stroke  of  sickness 
threatened  to  take  away  the  world's  opportunity. 
It  was  all  right  now.  He  was  Squire  Winthrop's 
amanuensis.  He  was  also  a  genealogist.  He 
would  have  an  opportunity  as  a  scholar  to  avail 


A  BREAK  IN  THE  CLOUD.  177 

himself  of  the  resources  of  knowledge  accumu- 
lated in  that  famous  academy  course  of  his 
youth.  How  it  must  gratify  Alma,  he  thought, 
as,  clad  in  a  dressing-gown  that  somehow  he 
always  fancied  had  a  scholastic  air,  he  bent  over 
the  dusty  pages  of  that  genealogy.  If  Mater, 
the  other  twin-child,  were  only  living  to  witness 
her  father's  occupancy  of  his  rightful  place  !  It 
comforted  him  to  think  the  dear  child  did  look 
down  from  the  other  life  and  see  his  present  oc- 
cupation. 

There  was  another  lift  on  Alma's  burdens  the 
very  next  morning.  Alma  had  hardly  started 
the  kitchen  tire  when  there  was  a  hurried,  eager 
knock  at  the  door.  She  opened  it,  and  there 
stood  Mary  Haviland,  her  faded  eyes  sharply 
flashing,  her  gray  hair  escaping  from  her  bonnet 
and  fluttering  in  the  wind. 

"  He  says — it — has — not — been  proved — and 
— I  think  you  ought  to  know — it,"  exclaimed 
Mary,  as  Alma  opened  the  door. 

"  Come  in,  come  in  !  "  said  Alrna.  "  Why, 
Mary,  what  sends  you  out  so  early  ?  Come  in 
and  warm  yourself  by  the  stove ! " 

"  0, 1  ain't  cold  !     Well,  it  hasn't  been  proved, 

no,  no ! " 
12 


178  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  What  hasn't  been  proved  ? " 

"We  had  a  letter  from  Horace  last  night, 
and—" 

"Horace?" 

"Ye,s,  yes!  Just  think!  A  letter  from 
Horace,  and  it  only  got  here  last  night.  Been 
miscarried!  So  the  post-office  folks  tell  me. 
Now,  did — did  you  ever  hear  of  such  things  ? 
It  got  here  last  night.  And — and  what  do  you 
think  Horace  said  ? " 

Here  Mary  dropped  her  voice  to  a  whisper  in 
communicating  the  important  news. 

"  You  know  those  Willoughbys  said  Bob  stole, 
and  Horace  says  it  hasn't  been  proved !  There 
for  ye  !  Hasn't  been  proved  !  Now,  you  can 
stay  your  soul  on  that !  But  I  must  go." 

Alma  was  in  a  kind  of  painful  daze.  The 
subject  of  any  possible  theft  by  Bob  was  like 
the  sting  of  a  thorn  in  her  side,  but  when  she 
saw  this  faithful  though  weak-minded  ally  turn- 
ing toward  the  door,  she  recovered  herself,  and 
murmured : 

"  I  thank  you  ever  so  much,  Mary." 

"  I  thought  it  would  help  you  when  you  come 
to  turn  it  over,  dear." 

Turning    it    over    subsequently,    Alma   was 


A  BKEAK  m  THE  CLOUD.  179 

helped  by  it.  Bob  in  his  letter  had  said  nothing 
about  any  charges  of  theft.  Aunt  Mary  had 
showed  Alma  the  letter  Ralph  had  sent,  but  this 
said  nothing  about  any  theft  by  Bob.  JSTow 
came  Horace's  assurance  that  the  charge  had  not 
been  proved.  It  was  like  a  breaking  cloud  at 
night,  revealing  in  the  rift  a  star. 

"Thank  God,"  said  Alma  devoutly,  grate- 
fully. "  He  is  lifting  on  my  burden." 

Yes,  underneath  all  our  trials,  burdens,  cares, 
are  the  everlasting  arms. 

Alma's  father  had  not  been  allowed  to. know 
of  any  charge  against  Bob. 

"  It  will  do  him  no  good,"  reasoned  Alma  and 
her  mother.  "  Then  it  may  do  him  a  lot  of  hurt, 
as'  he  has  had  that  ill  turn." 

Mr.  Walker  thought  of  Bob  as  the  smartest 
sailor,  probably,  on  board  the  Andromeda',  every 
body  liking  him,  his  good  name  without  a  spot, 
his  future  assured  as  one  of  honor.  But  what 
was  Bob  doing  to  win  a  good  record  as  a  whale- 
man ?  Borrow  the  wings  of  an  albatross  and  fly 
to  the  Pacific. 


180  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THERE    SHE    BLOWS! 

«mHERE  she  blows!"  was  the  sharp,  shrill 
J-    cry  echoing  above  the  Andromeda  one 
day. 

Bob  at  the  time  was  in  the  galley  with  'Rastus 
the  cook.  It  was  a  snug  place  of  shelter.  Besides 
the  stove,  a  bulky  affair  and  securely  fastened 
to  the  deck,  there  were  rows  of  tin- ware,  a  table, 
a  small  heap  of  fuel.  'Rastus  was  "  gittin'  up 
a  big  Johnny  cake  fur  de  crew,"  so  he  had  told 
Bob.  One  big  pan  for  the  dough  was  on  the 
stove ;  a  second  stood  on  the  floor,  leaning  against 
the  corner  of  the  stove.  'Rastus  was  "spinning 
a  yarn."  ''  There  she  blows !  "  came  that  cry. 
The  thread  of  'Rastus's  yarn  was  abruptly  sev- 
ered, cut  by  that  sharp  cry  in  a  place  of  exceed- 
ing interest  to  Bob.  He  wanted  to  find  out  if 
'Rastus  knew  all  the  colored  people  in  Oldbury- 
port,  and  if  he  possibly  knew  such  a  young  mu- 
latto as  that  one  in  Steve's  company  the  first 
time  Bob  ever  met  Steve.  Bob  had  been  listen- 


THEEE  SHE  BLOWS  !  181 

ing  to  'Rastus,  and,  interrupting,  was  about  to 
describe  that  mulatto  when  there  echoed  over- 
head the  good  news,  "  There  she  blows ! "  The 
galley  was  instantly  in  a  state  of  intense  excite- 
ment. 'Rastus  dropped  the  dish  in  which  he 
was  mixing  and  stirring  his  dough,  but  clung  to 
his  big  iron  spoon  and  started  for  the  door  of 
the  galley.  Bob  was  ahead  of  him,  but  hit  with 
his  foot  the  pan  resting  against  the  stove,  and, 
stumbling  over  it,  pitched  against  the  door  of 
the  galley.  'Rastus  arrived  at  the  door  in  almost 
as  good  time  as  Bob,  and  in  their  effort  to  get 
out,  two  at  a  time,  'Rastus  plastered  up  Bob's 
right  eye  with  a  lump  of  dough  whirled  out  of 
the  spoon  still  in  the  cook's  hand.  Such  a  mat- 
ter as  a  lump  of  dough  in  one's  eye  is  only  a 
trifle  compared  with  a  big  whale  in  the  sea,  and 
it  was  not  allowed  to  interfere  with  Bob's  per- 
sistent progress.  Scouring  out  his  eye  with  his 
handkerchief,  Bob  tumbled  on  the  deck.  'Ras- 
tus landed  by  his  side,  his  legs  as  well  as  his 
spoon  flourished  in  the  air,  while  his  eyes  were 
frantically  turned  toward  the  source  of  that  out- 
cry in  the  rigging. 

"  There  she  blows ! "  came  the  warning  a  sec- 
ond time. 


182  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

It  was  Horace  Haviland  up  in  the  foretop- 
gallant  cross-trees,  doing  duty  as  look-out — a 
very  important  piece  of  service  in  a  whale-ship. 

"  Where  away  ? "  rang  out  Captain  Granby's 
eager  voice. 

"  Two  points  off  lee  bow  !  Three  miles  off, 
and  sperm  whale." 

He  had  no  sooner  said  this  than  Horace 
shouted,  "  There  goes  flukes ! " 

This  meant  that  the  monster,  who  had  come 
up  possibly  to  see  and  devour  the  maid,  An- 
dromeda, had  gone  down  into  the  sea  again. 
Tliis  subject  was  not  to  be  dropped  here,  even  if 
the  whale  had  disappeared.  The  excitement  in 
the  galley  was  an  illustration  of  the  state  of 
mind  in  which  all  the  crew  were.  There  were 
those  off  duty  who  were  lounging  and  sleeping 
down  in  the  forecastle,  but  they  all  scrambled 
on  deck,  and  rushed  for  the  rigging,  every  eye 
eagerly  strained  to  see  every  thing  possible. 

"We  will  find  out  about  that  feller!"  an- 
nounced the  captain,  and  the  boats  were  cleared 
for  lowering.  The  driving  Andromeda  was 
cautiously  maneuvered  to  meet  each  emergency. 

"  Stand  by  to  lower ! "  thundered  the  captain, 
and  splashing  down  into  the  cool  Pacific  went 


THERE  SHE  BLOWS  !  183 

the  boats.  The  whale  was  now  anxiously  de- 
sired by  the  crew  to  appear  again,  and  finally 
consented. 

"  There  she  blows !  "  was  the  ringing  cry  aloft, 
echoed  by  many  voices  below.  The  whale  was 
much  nearer.  The  white  foam  of  the  spout 
curved  above  the  lonely  waters.  Such  a  fount- 
ain-like play  seemed  a  very  insignificant  matter, 
but  it-  started  up  those  boat-crews  as  if  a  bomb 
had  exploded  under  their  feet.  There  were 
three  boats  pushing  off.  Each  had  a  crew  of  six 
men.  There  were  four  oarsmen  to  a  boat,  also 
a  harpooner  and  boat  steerer.  Bob  and  Ralph 
each  pulled  an  oar  under  Roaring  Ben,  while 
Horace  Haviland  was  the  harpooner.  At  various 
times,  when  the  sea  was  calm  and  the  Androm- 
eda loitering  in  its  course,  a  spare  spar  would  be 
dropped  overboard  and  towed  astern.  The  spar 
was  supposed  to  be  a  whale.  The  boats  would 
be  lowered  and  the  crews  exercised  duly  in 
whaling.  They  were  drilled  in  "pullin'  in 
chase,"  and  in  whatever  was  meant  by  those 
mysteries,  "starnin',"  or  "  goin'  on,"  or  "pullin' 
two  oars  starn  three."  There  wrould  be  a  turbu- 
lent swash  of  foam  around  that  spar,  but  it  would 
always  come  unharmed  out  of  the  tumult.  At 


184  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

various  times,  when  the  voyagers  were  sailing 
down  the  Atlantic,  the  boats  had  been  lowered 
for  real  whales,  but  Bob's  boat  was  never  the 
one  lucky  enough  to  capture  a  monster.  Cha- 
grined on  account  of  this  ill-success,  Bob's  mates 
were  specially  anxious,  now  that  they  were  on 
the  whaling  grounds  of  the  Pacific,  to  strike  and 
secure  a  whale  soon  as  possible. 

"Now,  boys,"  said  Hearing  Ben,  "all  ready! 
There,  that  is  it !  Now,  go  it !  Stiddy, 
stiddy ! " 

As  the  boatmen  bent  forward  to  dip  their 
oars  Roaring  Ben  would  bend  also,  then  falling 
back  for  the  long,  hard  pull.  Through  the 
swelling  sea  shot  the  boat,  Roaring  Ben  every 
minute  or  two  interjecting  some  word  of  en- 
couragement :  "  Boys,  you  are  gainin'  on  'em  ! " 
"  T'other  boats  are  fallin'  astarn !  "  "  That  crit- 
ter is  blowin'  agin  ! "  "  Sticfdy !  We'll  have  an 
iron  in  him  sartin  sure !  "  "  Eyes  out,  Horace  ! 
Have  your  iron  out ! " 

"Aye,  aye,  sir ! "  replied  the  harpooner,  stand- 
ing in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  his  hand  on  the  sharp 
iron.  Before  him  rose  from  the  sea  the  square, 
bulky  head  of  the  whale,  dark  and  stupid  and 
stubborn,  the  outlines  contrasting  strongly  with 


THERE  SHE  BLOWS  !  185 

the  pools  of  white  foam  that  frothed  about  this 
big  creature  of  the  deep.  Roaring  Ben's  crew 
came  on  gently  as  possible.  Whalemen  know 
how  to  muffle  their  oars  so  that  the  strong,  ener- 
getic strokes  shall  not  excite  his  black  majesty 
carelessly  sporting  in  the  sea. 

"  Ready,  Horace !  "  muttered  Roaring  Ben. 

The  harpooner  gave  a  nod  impatiently,  as  if 
signifying  by  it  that  of  course  he  was  ready, 
and  did  not  the  mate  understand  that  ?  His 
harpoons — barbed  weapons  of  iron,  the  edges 
keen  and  bright — were  close  at  hand.  There 
were  the  lances,  each  in  good  cutting  order. 
Nowadays,  whalers  resort  also  to  harpoon-guns 
and  bomb-lances.  In  Roaring  Ben's  boat  were 
three  hundred  fathoms  of  hemp-line  carefully 
coiled  away.  There  were  hatchet  and  knife  that 
might  be  serviceable  in  cutting  the  line.  This 
was  not  the  only  apparatus  in  the  boat.  The 
whalemen  must  have  their  compass,  for  might 
they  not  be  separated  from  their  beloved  vessel  ? 
Then  they  must  take  water-keg,  lantern,  candles, 
fluke-spade,  boat-hook,  dragging-float.  That 
sporting  whale  not  far  away  might  prove  to  be 
a  dangerous  creature,  and  in  the  duel  between 
boat  and  fish  some  of  the  crew  might  be  hurt 


186  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

as  well  as  the  fish.  There  must  be  bandages  in 
readiness  for  any  sucli  emergency  as  a  wound. 
A  "  waif-flag,"  mounted  on  a  pole,  might  be 
helpful. 

Roaring  Ben's  whale  was  now  nearer  than 
ever.  The  other  boats  were  still  "astarn." 
As  his  crew  with  muffled  oars  steadily  made 
headway,  the  mate  plied  his  stimulating  re- 
marks. 

"Now,  boys,  give  it  to  'em!  Now,  stiddy, 
stiddy,  stiddy!  Spring  to  it!  Spring,  boys! 
O,  a  ship  to  every  man  that  wins !  Spring  to 
it!  Hun-now!'  There!" 

As  the  crew  rowed,  Roaring  Ben  steered.  His 
apparatus  was  a  steering-oar  over  twenty  feet 
long  thrust  out  through  a  so-called  groin  met  on 
the  stern-post.  As  if  strong  hooks  of  steel  his 
brown  hands  gripped  that  oar,  while  his  eyes 
glared  sharp  and  wild  under  the  eaves  of  shaggy 
hair.  He  saw  only  that  whale. 

"  There  goes  flukes  !  "  said  Ben,  in  a  softened 
but  excited  tone.  "  Now  look  out ! " 

The  whale  had  gone.  Gone  where?  When 
he  came  up  where  would  he  appear? 

Ralph  trembled. 

"  What  if  that  creature  should  know  no  better 


THERE  SHE  BLOWS!  187 

than  to  come  up  under  this  very  boat,  and,  say, 
bump  his  head  against  my  feet !  " 

Bob  did  not  have  any  thoughts.  He  only  saw 
Ben's  face,  and  his  soul  was  thrilled  with  the  ex- 
citement of  the  chase  and  the  hope  of  capture. 
He  just  gripped  his  oar  in  silence,  for  not  a  man 
spoke  save  as  the  steejer  gave  his  orders  in  low, 
hushed  tones. 

"  Pull  for  dear  life  !  "  Roaring  Ben  was  say- 
ing. "  Spring  all !  'Most  there !  Jest  hear 
him  spout!  Ain't  that  music?  There  he  is! 
Pull ! " 

In  silence  every  man  pulled  as  if  it  were  to 
save  himself  from  a  funeral.  Bob  turned  his 
head  an  instant  and  saw  the  huge  dark  creature 
projecting  his  back  from  the  uneasy  water. 
Roaring  Ben  had  risen  that  he  might  more 
easily  work  his  long  steering-oar.  Horace,  also, 
was  standing  in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  the  sharp- 
pointed  iron  in  his  hand,  one  moment  looking  at 
the  big  bulk  every  oar-sweep  nearer  to  him,  and 
then  glancing  down  to  see  if  the  line  attached 
to  his  iron  was  falling  into  the  tub  clear  and 

o 

disentangled.  Carelessly,  dignifiedly  spouting, 
the  king  of  the  sea  still  lay  stretched  out  upon 
the  sea. 


188  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Now,  now,  give  it  to  him  ! "  half  whispered 
the  mate  to  Horace. 

Whizz — z  !  went  the  iron,  its  keen  point  sug- 
gesting suddenly  to  the  king  that  somebody 
meant  to  disturb  his  repose. 

"  Another  !  "  cried  the  mate. 

Horace  was  handling  his  second  iron,  and  it 
followed  the  first  in  speedy  succession,  making 
another  pointed  and  disagreeable  suggestion  to 
his  majesty. 

"  Starti  all ! "  Roaring  Ben  was  now  shouting. 
"  Starn,  I  tell  ye ! " 

The  boat  was  quickly  backed  to  a  position  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  whale  if  he  should  turn 
and  show  fight.  There  was  no  such  disposition 
in  the  startled  creature.  He  had  felt  the  prick 
of  a  sharp  spur  that  started  him  off  in  a  mad, 
violent  shoot,  and  away  he  rushed,  the  line  whirl- 
ing out  of  the  tub  so  fast  that  the  wooden  rail 
of  the  boat  smoked  with  the  heat  of  the  intense 
friction.  Down,  down  sank  the  leviathan,  as  if 
to  smother  his  trouble  and  the  boat  also  in  the 
depths  of  the  ocean.  Bob  had  sunk  a  fishing- 
line  oftentimes  in  the  river  at  home,  but  he  had 
never  known  any  excitement  like  this.  All  that 
could  be  seen  was  just  that  strong  hemp-line 


THERE  SHE  BLOWS  !  189 

going  down  into  the  ocean,  and  that  something 
was  on  the  end  of  the  line  the  movement  of 
the  boat  readily  proved.  What  a  big,  unseen 
mystery  was  towing  them  over  the  Pacific ! 
Would  it  come  up  again,  this  ocean-mystery  ? 
Would  the  line  hold?  What  if  it  broke? 
When  might  the  whale  be  expected  ?  Sudden- 
ly, not  far  away,  rose  out  of  the  foaming  water 
a  huge  hump,  and  the  next  moment  there  was 
the  sound  of  a  hoarse  blowing.  The  king  had 
arrived  again. 

"  There  she  blows ! "  reported  the  mate,  pant- 
ing with  excitement. 

The  whale  had  consumed  his  stock  of  air,  and 
had  come  up  to  breathe. 

"Now  spring  for  it,  boys!  Quick,  Horace! 
Don't  sojer,  boys  !  Quick  ! "  urged  Roaring 
Ben. 

Horace  was  as  prompt  as  the  mate.  He  drove 
into  the  whale  a  lance,  following  it  up  with  a  sec- 
ond and  a  third.  There  was  no  escape  now  for 
the  whale.  With  his  immense  flukes  he  threshed 
the  water  as  if  this  were  the  wretch  daring  to  in- 
terfere with  his  peace.  The  heavy  blows  echoed 
over  the  sea. 

"  Starn  all ! "  shouted  the  mate. 


190  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

The  boat  was  backed  out  of  the  raging  whirl- 
pool, whose  furious  center  was  that  wounded 
fish-king.  He  would  still  fight  on. 

The  boatmen  rested  on  their  oars  and  watched 
from  a  safe  distance  the  contortions  of  their  booty. 
These  were  less  and  less  violent.  The  huge  flukes 
could  not  be  lifted  so  easily,  flapping  lower,  lower. 
The  breathing  was  more  and  more  suppressed. 
The  body  turned  more  and  more  laboriously,  and 
at  last  there  was  a  motionless  carcass  stretched  out 
on  the  surface  of  the  sea.  The  king  was  dead. 
Across  the  waters  echoed  the  hurrah  of  the  vic- 
torious, happy  whalemen.  The  other  boats  that 
had  started  out  in  this  hunt  had  been  diverted 
toward  several  breathing,  blowing  monsters  of 
the  sea,  but,  failing  to  make  a  capture,  they 
rowed  up  to  Roaring  Ben's  crew,  and  assisted 
in  the  towing  of  the  whale  to  the  ship.  It  was 
not  a  lengthy  effort,  for  the  Andromeda  met 
them  and  the  whale  was  made  fast  to  the  ship's 
chains.  Andromeda  was  victor  in  this  her  mod- 
ern fight  with  a  big  sea-prodigy. 

"  Well,  boys  ! "  exclaimed  Captain  Granby  to 
Bob  and  Ralph  as  they  came  aboard,  "  how  do 
you  feel  after  the  hunt  ? " 

"  First-rate,"  said  Ralph. 


THERE  SHE  BLOWS  !  191 

Bob's  answer  was  characteristic  : 

"  Ready  for  the  next  one." 

"  He  is  going  to  be  a  whaleman,"  added  Roar- 
ing Ben  with  pride. 

The  mission  of  the  Andromeda  to  the  great 
whaling  grounds  in  the  far  Pacific  now  began 
in  earnest.  From  the  mast  head  hung  tackle 
and  fall  for  hoisting,  to  assist  in  the  so-termed 
*'  cutting-in "  process  to  which  every  captured 
whale  is  subjected.  Amidships  stood  the  try- 
works.  The  whale  duly  is  dissected  or  "  cut 
up."  All  serviceable  parts  are  hoisted  out  of 
the  sea.  In  the  "blubber-room"  is  a  whale- 
carver.  He  cuts  up  the  blubber,  and  it  leaves 
him  for  the  "  mincing-horse."  Here  another 
carving  takes  place.  The  fat  is  finally  brought 
into  available  size  for  the  try-pots.  These  are 
of  iron,  and  are  firmly  set  in  brick.  Under 
these  hot  fires  are  maintained.  Wood  is  used 
at  first.  When  the  trying-out  season  has  fairly 
begun  the  scraps  left  after  boiling  down  the 
blubber  into  oil  are  sufficient  to  keep  up  the 
fires.  The  whale  does  not  need  after  this  the 
services  of  a  wood-chopper,  but  is  so  accommo- 
dating as  to  boil  his  fat  at  his  own  expense. 

While   a  whaler  by  day  cruises  under    sail 


192  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

wherever  her  booty  may  show  itself,  at  sunset 
sail  is  taken  in.  The  mainyard  is  aback.  She 
lies  during  the  night  under  diminished  canvass. 
The  try- works  are  in  operation.  The  blackish, 
sooty  flames  roll  up  in  the  furnaces,  and  as  they 
escape  from  the  flues  they  light  np  the  deck, 
the  masts,  the  shrouds,  and  stays,  the  scanty  sail, 
and  throw  a  red  glare  down  upon  the  sea  and 
turn  each  patch  of  foam  into  a  rose  from  the 
garden  at  home. 

Bob's  first  whale  (did  not  our  sailor-boy  have 
an  energetic  hand  in  the  capture  ?)  yielded  about 
seventy  barrels  of  oil,  snugly  stowed  away  be- 
tween decks. 


SOUNDING  A  MYSTERY.  193 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SOUNDING    A    MYSTERY. 

IT  was  just  before  dawn.  Ralph  was  standing 
in  the  bows  of  the  Andromeda.  He  was 
glad  to  have  this  opportunity  to  do  nothing. but 
stand  and  look  off.  He  had  been  working  hard 
for  two  hours  about  the  hot  furnaces,  cramming 
in  the  scraps,  or  busy  in  passing  pieces  of  blub- 
ber to  the  try-pots.  Work  was  carried  on  at 
night  as  well  as  by  day.  The  great  question 
was  how  to  get  oil,  oil,  oil.  It  is  true  the  An- 
dromeda did  not  have  her  old  look  of  neatness 
and  trimness.  Big  grease-spots  darkened  the 
decks.  Somewhere  a  sail  might  need  patching 
or  the  wood-work  might  show  the  marks  of 
hard  usage.  The  business  of  the  Andromeda 
was  now  not  to  look  handsome,  but  be  a  suc- 
cessful whaler.  The  vessel  had  come  too  great 
a  distance — from  New  England  to  waters  stretch- 
ing down  toward  New  Zealand — to  lose  this  op- 
portunity for  an  oil-harvest. 

Ralph  looked   very   little  like  Squire  "Win- 
13 


194  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

throp's  relative  in  the  fashionable  cloak  that 
Alma  used  to  admire  in  church.  He  was  now 
just  a  young  whaleman,  whose  clothes  were  well 
greased  with  whale-blubber.  Thankful  for  a  short 
vacation,  he  was  looking  off  contentedly  toward 
the  east,  while  the  dark  sea  musically  stroked  and 
caressed  the  hull  of  the  Andromeda.  The  sun 
had  not  yet  thrust  his  royal  face  above  the  ho- 
rizon, but  he  was  already  coquetting  with  the 
clouds,  which  rosily  blushed  before  his  glances. 
The  ship  was  lying  almost  motionless  on  the  si- 
lent, glassy  sea. 

As  Ralph  looked  up,  he  saw  Steve  Wyckham 
not  far  from  him  leaning  over  the  vessel's  rail. 
Seeing  Steve,  Ralph  thought  of  Bob.  He  nat- 
urally was  reminded  of  the  cross-marked  dollar. 
And  then,  like  a  disagreeable  object  rising  out 
of  the  sea,  came  up  the  old  mystery ;  namely, 
how  did  that  dollar  happen  to  get  into  Bob's 
mitten  ? 

"  I  would  like  to  ask  Steve  a  question," 
thought  Ralph.  Then  followed  his  natural 
shrinking  from  the  obeying  of  any  such  impulse. 
"  You  ought,"  said  conscience.  "  You  can  influ- 
ence both  parties  in  this  unfortunate  affair,  if 
any  body  can." 


SOUNDING  A  MYSTEKY.  105 

Steve  had  been  both  careful  and  courteous  in 
his  attitude  toward  Ralph.  It  was  out  of  re- 
gard for  his  own  interests  rather  than  because 
he  cared  for  Ralph's  feelings.  He  never  forgot 
that  Ralph  was  Squire  "Winthrop's  relative,  and 
might  be  a  very  serviceable  round  to  step  on  as 
he  climbed  up  the  ladder  of  promotion.  Ralph 
suspected  this. 

"  You  have  influence,"  now  suggested  Ralph's 
conscience.  "  You  use  it." 

Ralph  was  ready  after  this. 

"  Good-morning,  Wyckham." 

"Nice  day." 

"  I  hope  so." 

"  Good  whale  day." 

"  Yes-s-s." 

There  was  a  pause,  a  little  strip  of  awkward 
silence  between  twro  people  who  instinctively 
feel  that  one  has  something  special  to  say  to  the 
other  person. 

"  O,  Wyckham,  excuse  it,  but —  began 
Ralph. 

Steve  looked  sharply  at  him,  bull-dog  like,  as 
if  he  suspected  that  some  one  was  going  to  in- 
vade the  privacy  of  his  views. 

"  But  you — but  I — but  you,"  resumed  Ralph, 


196  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"know  that  it  would  be  pleasant  to  have  that 
matter  between  you  and  Bob  Walker  fixed  up." 

"  I  don't  know,,"  replied  Steve  promptly.  "  I 
want  it  fixed  up  right.  There  is  only  one  right 
way  to  any  thing.  All  that  Bob  Walker  has 
got  to  do  is  to  own  up." 

"  But  he  asserts  that  he  is  innocent ;  that  he 
has  no  idea  how  the  dollar  came  in  the  mitten  ; 
and  naturally  he  would  not  be  such  a  fool  as  to 
bring  out  of  its  hiding-place,  in  so  public  a  way, 
this  money,  if  he  put  it  there.  Now,  can't  you 
tell  when  you  had  it  last  ?  Don't  be  offended." 

Steve  knew  what  was  best  for  his  interests. 
He  drove  from  his  face  as  much  of  the  bull-dog 
look  as  was  possible,  and  with  a  smooth,  quiet 
tongue,  said : 

"I  have  been  thinking  it  over,  and  I  have 
concluded  that  I  had  it  while  on  board  the  ship." 

"Sure?" 

Steve  did  not  like  this  monosyllabic  interrog- 
atory. It  was  uttered  in  a  tone  of  doubt.  His 
face  clouded.  Bull-dog  came  into  Steve's  eyes 
and  looked  gloomily  if  not  savagely  out  upon 
Ralph.  Steve  was  losing  control  of  himself. 
He  forgot  that  he  was  addressing  Squire  Win- 
throp's  relative,  and  he  saw  just  Ralph  Win- 


SOUNDING  A  MYSTERY.  197 

throp,  a  greasy  young  whaleman  in  the  bows  of  • 
the  Andromeda. 

"  You — you — doubt  me  ?  "  growled  Steve. 
"  That  is  what  you  all  think  me  to  be— a  liar. 
It's  no  gentleman  that  insinuates  any  such 
thing." 

"  O,  I  mean  no  offense,  Steve.  Beg  pardon 
for  any  appearance  of  unfairness.  People  some- 
times forget,  that  is  all.  I  thought — " 

"  Don't  care  what  you  thought.  You  all  in 
that  pious  Sunday  afternoon  gang  are  bound  to 
stand  by  one  another." 

The  bull-dog  wheeled  round  on  his  feet  and 
moved  off  moodily. 

"  O,  Wyckham !  "  called  Kalph. 

Steve  would  hear  nothing,  but  strode  gloom- 
ily away.  Ralph  preferred  to  contemplate  the 
sun,  that  had  now  reached  the  horizon-line  and 
over  the  wide,  solitary  waters  threw  a  bridge  of 
gold  stretching  as  far  as  the  Andromeda. 

"If  that  bridge  reached  to  Oldburyport," 
thought  Ralph,  "I  would  like  to  leave  this  craft 
and  start  for  home  at  once.  I  would  like  to  get 
out  of  this  unpleasant  trouble.  That  can't  be, 
though,  and  I  must  stay  by  the  Andromeda,  and 
when  she  gets  to  Oldburyport  I  shall  get  there 


198  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

too.  All  right !  I  am  going  to  have  as  good  a 
time  as  possible,  and  take  things  as  they  come 
along,  and  stand  by  Bob  through  thick  and  thin. 
Ah,  there  he  is !  " 

"  Hullo,  Kalph ! "  shouted  Bob,  with  all  the 
resolute  cheerfulness  possible.  "  Nice  day ! " 

"Splendid!" 

"  Any  sign  of  a  whale  ? "  Bob  asked,  turning 
and  glancing  up  at  the  motionless  figures  who 
were  in  the  rigging  on  look-out  duty. 

"Nothing  yet,  Bob." 

The  two  young  men  then  faced  the  sun. 

It  pleased  Ralph  to  see  that  Bob  was  in  good 
spirits  and  pluckily  interested  in  his  daily  duties. 
With  regard  to  the  present  trouble,  Bob  had 
Ralph's  mind — to  make  the  best  of  it.  Bob  had 
sometimes  wondered  why  this  trouble  should 
have  come  up,  not  on  land,  where  we  may  get 
away  from  those  we  dislike,  but,  of  all  places, 
on  board  a  ship  !  That,  though,  is  one  of  life's 
disciplines — to  be  cornered  with  a  trouble,  to  be 
forced  to  eat,  drink,  and  sleep  under  the  same 
roof  with  it.  We  show  our  manhood  by  accept- 
ing and  enduring  such  close  quarters  in  a  brave, 
conciliatory  spirit,  cheerfully  bearing  the  in- 
evitable. 


SOUNDING  A  MYSTEKY.  199 

"  Grin  and  bear  it ! "  was  Bob's  motto,  and 
Ralph,  in  his  noble  loyalty  to  a  friend's  inter- 
ests, resolved  to  echo  that  motto. 

The  two  friends  continued  to  watch  the  sun- 
rise, occasionally  sweeping  the  horizon  with  the 
eye  to  see  if  possibly  a  whale  might  be  in 
sight. 

"  Not  one  blowing  anywhere  !  "  muttered 
Bob. 

No  whale,  but  what  was  the  cry  echoing  down 
from  the  men  on  look-out  duty  ? 

A  sail  ! 

"  Where  away  ?  "  called  out  Captain  Granby. 

"  Due  west ! "  was  the  reply. 

Every  body  on  deck  had  been  facing  the  east, 
watching  the  sunrise,  and  the  west  had  been 
neglected.  Slowly  the  stranger  bore  down  on 
the  Andromeda,  and  its  occupation  was  declared 
at  once  by  the  great  blocks  fastened  to  the  mast- 
head, its  try-works  amidships,  and  its  numerous 
boats. 

"  What  ship's  that? "  hailed  Captain  Granby. 

"  The  Cruiser,  of  ,  Captain  Boggs,  fif- 
teen months  out,  eight  hundred  barrels  of  oil." 

Captain  Granby  in  turn  gave  the  name,  port, 
time  out,  of  the  craft  he  commanded. 


200  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Come  to,"  added  Captain  Granby,  "  and  I'll 
send  a  boat  on  board  !  " 

Bob  was  one  of  Captain  Granby's  crew.  A 
rough,  hearty  seaman,  calling  himself  "  Skipper 
John  Mann,"  received  the  visitors  from  the  An- 
dromeda and  took  Captain  Granby  into  his 
cabin.  The  other  visitors  wandered  about  the 
deck,  talking  with  the  crew,  peeping  into  the 
try-works,  or  taking  a  look  inside  the  forecastle. 
Bob,  remembering  his  fondness  for  a  cook's 
galley,  put  his  head  within  the  galley-door  and 
sang  out,  "  How  d'  do  ? " 

"  Walk  in !  Don't  be  bashful,  honey ! "  was 
the  ready  welcome  given  by  one  of  the  colored 
race.  But  who  was  it  Bob  saw  standing  before 
the  stove,  uncertain  whether  to  speak  and  wel- 
come Bob,  or  to  wait  until  he  was  addressed  ?  A 
great  ocean,  where  humanity  is  almost  as  scarce 
as  fresh  water,  will  make  two  strangers  very 
social.  It  was  a  young  mulatto.  He  and  Bob 
were  quickly  nodding  to  one  another,  smiling 
like  old  acquaintances,  and  then  Bob  began  to 
ask  himself  whether  this  young  mulatto  might 
not  be  an  old  acquaintance  actually. 

"  Where  have  I  seen  that  fellow  before  ? " 
asked  Bob.  He  busily  reflected  awhile  and 


SOUNDING  A  MYSTERY.  201 

then  lie  declared,  "  I  must  have  seen  him  some- 
where on  land ! " 

The  conviction  strengthened  with  Bob  that 
the  two  had  met  before  on  land. 

"  Haven't  I  seen  you  before  ? "  asked  Bob-*- 
"  somewhere  in — " 

"  Don't  beliebe  you  hab.  Neber  seen  you 
afore.'' 

If  he  had  ever  met  Bob,  he  certainly  had  not 
seen  this  kind  of  a  Bob,  bronzed  by  sun  and 
wind,  under  a  rough  sou'-wester,  in  the  greasy 
clothes  of  the  "  trying-out "  season.  If  Bob 
had  ever  met  this  young  man,  where  it  possi- 
bly could  have  been  Bob  was  at  a  loss  to  say. 

V  V 

His  mind  began  to  search  through  the  past.  At 
first  it  was  like  trying  with  a  fifty-foot  line  to 
sound  a  basin  reputed  to  be  a  hundred  feet 
deep.  There  was  no  touching  bottom. 

"  Can't — can't — can't  seem  to  get  hold  of  it," 
asserted  Bob,  staring  at  the  young  mulatto,  but 
seeing  only  a  grinning  face  that  could  not  give 
the  least  help. 

"  O  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  have  it !  I  saw  you 
in  Oldburyport." 

"  "What  ? "  said  the  young  man,  as  much  mys- 
tified as  ever. 


202  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Call  him  Jim  Solus,"  suggested  the  black 
cook  to  Bob.  "  Dat  is  his  name." 

"All  right.  It  is  coming  to  me  now,"  said 
Bob.  "  I  saw  you  with  Steve  Wyckham  when 
you  two  were  lugging  a  chest  down  to  the  wharf. 
Don't  you  remember,  Jim  Solus  ? " 

"  He — lie — he ! "  laughed  the  mulatto.  "  You 
dat  feller?  You  in— " 

"  In  these  old  .clothes  ?  Greased  up  and 
browned  up,  you  going  to  say  ?  The  very  one, 
Jim  Solus.  How  are  you  ? " 

The  two  advanced  and  shook  hands  as  if 
brothers. 

"  He  sabe  me  from  a  right  smart  lickin',"  ex- 
plained Jim  Solus  to  the  cook.  "  I  remember 
dat  Stebe ;  not  a  giant,  but  he  know  how  to  use 
his  fists." 

"  Well,  now,  you  remember  one  other  thing," 
said  Bob,  wishing  to  improve  his  opportunity. 
"  Did  you  see  Steve  handling  any  money  ? " 

"  Any  money  ?  He  frew  it  roun'  right  an' 
lef.  Didn'  know,  you  see,"  Jim  Solus  ex- 
plained to  the  cook,  "  didn'  know  much  as  one 
do  sometime." 

"  Who  didn'  know?  You,  honey  ?  You  los' 
yer  senses  ? " 


SOUNDING  A  MYSTERY.  203 

• 

"He— lie!  No,  dat  Stebe.  I  jined  de 
pledge." 

"  Well,"  said  Bob,  feeling  that  time  was  pre- 
cious, and  anxious  to  improve  his  opportunity, 
"  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  story,  and  what  I  am 
driving  at  you  will  see.  I  found  in  a  pair  of 
mittens  a  dollar  marked  with  a  cross  on  one  side 
and  S.  W.  W.  on  the  other.  When  I  was  tak- 
ing my  mittens  out  of  the  chest,  that  was  the 
time  I  found  it.  Funny!  And  if  the  dollar 
didn't  roll  over  toward  Steve,  as  if  knowing  it 
was  lost  and  trying  to  find  him  !  It  was  as  much 
of  a  surprise  to  me  as  any  body.  Now  he,  Steve, 
claims  that  I  stole  the  money  from  him  and 
tucked  it  in  that  mitten.  Now — I — don't  know 
as  you  can  help  me,  but  did  you  see  him  with  a 
piece  of  money  like  a  keepsake  or  a — " 

"  I  remember.  O,  I  hab  seen  it  wid  him  a  long 
time.  lie  and  me  sailed  togeder  two  voyages. 
I  know  him  all  ober,  and  he  had  dat  money — 
had  it—" 

He  hesitated.  He  was  feeling  away  back  in 
the  shadows  of  the  past  for  some  evidence  on 
this  point. 

"  He  had  it  in  Oldburyport,  an'  los'  de  money 
— let  me  tink !  He  los'  dat  money,  he  los'  it 


204  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

• 
dar.     We  went  into  a  man's  shop — he  sole  goods 

for  sailors — " 

"  Habermann  ? " 

"  Don'  know  his  name.  Sort  ob  tall,  look 
important,  dark  face,  wear  specs — " 

"  That's  not  Habermann,"  cried  Bob. 

No,  it  never  was  the  genial  "  Charlie." 

"  Did  you  go  into  any  other  store  ?  You  see 
my  time  may  be  up,  and  cap'n  go  any  moment 
to  our  ship.  We  have  got  to  be  quick." 

Bob  had  not  spoken  any  too  soon.  That  mo- 
ment Captain  Granby's  voice  was  ringing  out : 

"  Come,  boys  !  All  aboard  for  the  Androm- 
eda!" 

"Quick!"  said  Bob. 

"  He  went  into  three  more  stores  to  buy  suf- 
fin,'  and  dar  he  miss  his  money,  and  he  came  out 
— mad." 

"Well,"  said  Bob,  puzzled  as  much  as  ever, 
and  feeling  that  the  mystery  was  still  a  dark 
one,  "  which  store  ? " 

"  All  aboard  for  the  Andromeda"  was  the 
warning  cry. 

"  Say — say !  "  exclaimed  Bob.  "  Come  over 
and  see  us !  I  dare  say  the  ships  may  lie  by 
each  other — " 


SOUNDING  A  MYSTERY.  205 

He  was  at  the  door  of  the  galley. 

"  Get  permission — " 

"  All  aboard—" 

"  Get  leave  to  come  to-day — " 

"  Where's  my  crew  ? "  Captain  Granby  was 
shouting. 

Bob  was  now  at  the  ship's  rail. 

"  And  see  us — " 

He  was  going  down  the  Cruiser's  side,  yet 
looking  up  and  beckoning. 

"  I'll  try,"  replied  Jim  Solus,  looking  down 
and  benevolently  grinning. 

How  many  things  in  this  world  are  desired 
and  almost  touch  our  hands,  and  then  slip  for- 
ever beyond  our  reach !  If  Bob  could  only 
have  brought  Jim  Solus  and  Steve  together,  it 
might  have  obliged  the  latter  to  be  more  re- 
strained in  his  charges,  Bob  thought,  and  then, 
in  his  perplexity,  he  wondered  if  Jim  could  help 
at  all. 

The  captains  of  the  two  whalers  thought  they 
might  keep  one  another  company  that  day,  and 
Skipper  John  in  that  case  meant  to  return  Cap- 
tain Granby 's  visit.  A  breeze  sprang  up,  though, 
which  sent  the  'Cruiser  rapidly  eastward,  in 
which  direction  she  wished  to  go,  and  so  with  a 


206  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

disappointed  heart,  Bob  saw  a  rapidly  growing 
space  of  blue  water  between  the  two  ships. 
The  Cruiser  lessened  to  a  speck  of  white  cloud 
that  vanished  into  the  mysterious  spaces  of  the 
east.  The  Andromeda  was  not  ready  to 
follow. 

"  Gone  ! "  declared  Bob  to  Kalph. 

"  Well,  Bob,  this  is  certain.  Steve  told  me," 
said  Ralph,  "his  money  he  had  with  him  on 
board  ship ;  and  now  here  is  testimony  that  he 
lost  his  money  in  Oldburyport." 

Naturally,  one  would  infer  that  Steve  would 
have  been  led  by  this  testimony  to  be  more 
moderate  in  his  charges  against  Bob,  and  Ralph 
told  him  what  Jim  Solus  said.  Steve  sneered 
at  the  value  of  the  testimony. 

"  Humph  !  What  does  that  prove,  supposing 
Bob  did  see  somebody — " 

"  Jim  Solus,"  suggested  Ralph. 

"  Jim  Solus ! "  was  Steve's  scornful  remark. 
"I  don't  know  any  Jim  Solus.  Snpposin'  I  did 
see  him — jest  for  the  sake  of  arguin',  you  know 
— and  the  money  was  lost  in  Oldburyport,  how 
did  it  get  into  Bob's  mittens  ?  Found  the  door 
open  and  walked  in  ?  Get  over  that  difficulty  if 
you  can." 


SOUNDING  A  MYSTERY.       '        207 

There  was  still  a  difficulty,  like  the  bar  at  a 
harbor's  mouth,  that  ought  to  be  taken  out  of 
the  way,  and  here,  in  the  suspicion  of  more 
than  one,  Bob's  fair  reputation  was  caught  and 
held  in  suspense,  if  not  seriously  damaged. 


208  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTEK  XIV. 

THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED. 

FT! HE  heading  of  this  chapter  does  not  refer  to 
JL  the  Andromeda,  but  to  that  domestic  vessel, 
the  Walker  family,  in  Oldburyport,  whose  finan- 
cial matters  were  about  to  feel  the  pressure  of  a 
storm ;  when  it  was  inevitable  that  sacrifices 
must  be  made,  and  very  many  comforts  and  con- 
veniences go  overboard.  It  was  autumn  again. 
The  torch  of  October  had  fired  the  maples,  and 
even  dared  to  attack  those  big  elms  for  which 
the  old  town  was  famous.  Outside  the  town 
there  were  groves  of  oak  where  that  incendia- 
rism was  making  assaults  less  bold,  but  the  oaks 
were  doomed  to  a  sure  though  slower  combus- 
tion. All  over  the  country  the  bright  October 
flames  were  spreading. 

To  Alma  it  was  not  the  color  of  destruction, 
but  of  hope  rather.  It  was  a  bright,  cheerful 
portal  through  which  she  was  passing  into  the 
winter.  That  was  her  feeling,  one  day,  when 
from  a  garret  window  she  looked  out  upon  the 


THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED.        209 

bright  colors  lining  the  streets  and  blazing  in 
the  gardens. 

"  Things  do  look  hopeful  all  round ! "  she 
murmured.  "  Bob  will  be  home  in  the  spring, 
and  then  he  can  face  and  put  to  an  end  the 
stories  about  him.  Father  earned  enough  money 
by  copying  the  old  genealogy  to  pay  our  rent  up. 
He  is  not  earning  any  thing  now,  but  as  his 
health  is  no  worse  I  guess  he  will  have  a  chance 
to  pick  up  something.  The  children  are  doing 
well  at  school.  Mothers  health  is  quite  good 
for  her,  and  she  likes  to  keep  store.  If  Squire 
Winthrop  were  only  well !  " 

Ah,  that  was  a  little  cloud  at  first,  the  squire's 
sickness,  but  it  overspread  the  sky  with  a  dark 
pall  of  disaster.  Just  how  it  should  bring  ruin 
to  the  Walker  hopes  will  at  once  be  seen. 

Bangs  Brothers  had  allowed  Alma  and  her 
mother  to  take  goods  for  their  little  shop  to  the 
extent  of  the  value  of  a  thousand  dollars.  This 
stock,  fast  as  sold,  could  be  replenished,  but 
Bangs  Brothers  said,  "Don't  keep  more  than  a 
thousand  dollars'  worth  on  hand  at  any  time. 
We  shall  expect  you  td  pay  us  as  fast  as  you  sell, 
and  the  more  profit  you  can  make  on  your  goods 

the  better  for  yon ;  but  we  must  protect  our- 
14 


210  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

selves,  of  course,  and  as  long  as  you  do  not  buy 
your  goods  right  out,  and  pay  only  for  what  you 
sell,  we  must  keep  the  right  any  time  to  take 
what  goods  you  have  on  hand.  Of  course,  we 
don't  think  there  will  be  any  such  emergency, 
but  then  there  is  no  telling  what  may  happen." 

Bangs  Brothers  certainly  did  not  expect  what 
really  happened.  They  annexed  the  above  con- 
dition to  their  sale  of  goods  to  the  Walkers  sim- 
ply as  a  possible  convenience  to  themselves,  not 
anticipating  any  trouble— which  came,  neverthe- 
less. It  arrived,  not  by  way  of  the  Walkers, 
but  through  one  of  those  sometimes  unreason- 
able, often  uncontrollable  things,  a  business 
panic.  People  were  frightened  in  every  direc- 
tion. The  market  was  violently  agitated.  "  Old 
houses"  that  could  not  stand  the  sudden  strain 
of  this  crisis  came  tumbling  to  the  ground  with 
a  sad  crash. 

"  Mother,"  said  Alma,  returning  from  a  busi- 
ness errand  one  day,  "  I  think  they  look  worried 
at  Bangs  Brothers'.  I  have  been  there  and  they 
seemed  to  be  nervous  and  hurried — very  kind  to 
me,  of  course,  in  their  manner,  but  still  they 
seemed  worried.  And  when  I  talked  about  hav- 
ing some  more  goods  they  were  just  as  pleasant 


THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED.        211 

as  ever,  but  said  it  might  be  best  to  wait  till  to- 
morrow, and  they  might  sell  all  right  then.  I 
could  not  understand,  but  I  am  afraid  some- 
thing is  going  to  happen.  However,  we  will 
come  out  all  right." 

"  All  right  ?  All  wrong,  I  should  say  ! "  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Walker,  who  did  not  possess  Alma's 
sanguine  temperament.  Like  Alma,  she  had 
dark  eyes,  but  they  seemed  more  like  caves  full 
of  gloomy  shadows.  Mrs.  Walker  was  one  of 
the  kind  always  expecting  a  storm,  even  in  the 
midst  of  fair  weather  of  the  most  brilliant  kind. 
In  a  characteristic  way  she  now  added :  "  But, 
there,  1  knew  something  would  turn  out  bad." 

It  turned  out  the  next  clay — the  failure  of 
Bangs  Brothers.  All  their  goods  were  assigned 
to  a  third  party,  for  the  benefit  of  creditors,  and 
these  goods  were  to  be  sold  at  once.  Alma 
heard  this  through  Charlie  Habermann  at  his 
store.  He  did  not  know  he  was  •  reading  a 
death-warrant  to  the  Walkers'  business  hopes. 
Alma  returned  home,  and  was  just  doing  up  a 
yard  of  ribbon  for  a  customer,  when  Mr.  Porter, 
head- clerk  of  Bangs  Brothers,  called. 

"  Trouble  ! "  Alma  said  to  herself,  the  moment 
she  saw  the  man.  He  had  never  been  in  the 


212  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

little  shop  before,  and  she  knew  that  he  called 
now  on  some  unusual  errand,  and  to  say  some- 
thing about  the  great  failure. 

"A  pleasant  little  corner! "he  said  the  mo- 
ment Alma's  customer  had  gone.  "  Really,"  he 
said,  looking  round,  "  I  did  not  know  you  were 
so  pleasantly  located.  Seems  too  bad  to  inter- 
rupt you — 

Alma  did  not  jump,  or  give  a  little  scream. 
She  only  looked  at  the  head-clerk  very  directly 
and  regretfully,  and  that  made  it  harder  for  him 
to  proceed.  He  stammered  out  a  continuation 
of  his  speech : 

"  B-b-but  I  am  afraid-d-d  I  shall  have  to  take 
your  goods.  You  know  you  have  had  them,  as 
•  it  were,  on  commission,  to  sell  and  make  what 
you  could-d-d.  We  kept  the  right  t-t-to  take  the 
goods  any  time." 

"And  they  must  be  taken  no\v,  I  suppose, 
sir?" 

He  lowered  his  eyes  before  her  searching  look. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it ;  or  as  soon  as  they  can  be 
packed.  All  our  goods  are  included  in  the  as- 
signment we  make,  and  these,  of  course,  go  with 
them.  I  am  sorry." 

"  Perhaps  Squire  Winthrop — " 


THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED.        213 

"  Could  help  you  ?  I  wish  he  were  in  a  con- 
dition to  give  aid,  for  then  I  know  we  should  get 
help.  We  have  found  out  that  his  doctor  keeps 
all  exciting  subjects  away  from  him,  and  the 
squire  attends  as  little  to  business  as  when  he 
was  a  baby." 

"  I  see.     Well  ? " 

She  looked  at  him  and  tried  to  smile. 

"  Going  to  make  the  best  of  it,  Miss  Walker  ? 
That  is  the  better  philosophy,  we  think,  over  at 
the  store." 

"  And — religion,"  Alma  could  not  help  saying. 

"  Don't  know  about  that,  Miss  Walker,  but  I 
I  know  we  have  got  to  take  things  as  they 
come." 

Mr.  Porter  did  not  bear  a  reputation  foj* 
any  interest  in  religion.  He  lived  apparently 
a  life  as  separate  from  all  spirituality  as  the  life 
of  a  vegetable. 

"  We  are  very  thankful  to  you  people  at  the 
store  for  allowing  us  to  have  the  goods  as  long 
as  we  have  had  them.  We  can  take  some  com- 
fort in  that,  Mr.  Porter." 

"  Don't  know  about  that  either,  Miss  Walker. 
It  does  not  make  me  happy  in  the  midst  of 
rainy  weather  to-day  because  it  did  not  rain  yes- 


214:  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

terday.  But  there,"  he  said,  with  an  apologetic 
tone,  "  I  ought  not  to  be  bothering  you  this 
way.  The  long  and  the  short  of  it  is.  we  must 
all  try  to  make  the  best  of  things.  Sorry, 
sorry !  If  you  will  be  ready  to  pack  the  goods, 
I  can  send  you  over  some  boxes  any  time." 

"  We  will  be  ready,  and  we  thank  you  all. 
We  will  square  up  for  every  thing  we  owe. 
We  are  really  sorry  for  Bangs  Brothers." 

Mr.  Porter  went  out  of  the  old  house  saying, 
"^That  girl  would  take  the  electricity  out  of  a 
stroke  of  lightning.  Wish  I  could  feel  as  she 
does — and  talk  so,  too,  even  if  I  did  not  really 
believe  so."  • 

The  head-clerk  had  been  venting  his  feelings 

in  almost  numberless  rounds  of  oaths  since  the 

• 

hour  the  failure  was  known  to  be  inevitable. 

Brave  Alma  !  When  alone — she  was  only  a 
girl  after  all — she  leaned  her  head  forward  on 
the  counter  and  cried. 

"  That  does  me  good !  "  she  said.  "  Now,  I'll 
go  to  work." 

She  began  at  once  to  'take  up  the  ribbon  goods 
and  arrange  them  for  packing.  Then  she  gath- 
ered up  the  spools  of  cotton  in  their  corner. 
The  boxes  came  from  the  store  of  Bangs  Broth- 


THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED.       215 

ers  promptly,  and  promised  to  hold  all  that  the 
"Walkers  had  on  the  counter  and  shelves. 

"  They  look  like  coffins,"  said  Mrs.  "Walker 
with  a  groan.  "  I  mean  these  boxes." 

"  It  does  seem  like  a  funeral,"  said  Alma, 
laughing.  "  No,  I  won't  have  it.  I  am  going 
to  think  it  is  the  best  thing  possible.  Mother, 
now  see!  I  can  get  something  to  do  besides 
my  school,  so  as  to  earn  some  money,'  and  all 
this  will  save  you  a  lot  of  work.  You  need  a 
vacation." 

"  Got  to  take  it  whether  needed  or  not,  Al- 
ma," was  Mrs.  Walker's  glum  and  unappreciative 
remark.  "  I  wish  it  would  rain." 

"Why?" 

"  O  it  would  seem  fit,  and  have  it  blow, 
too—" 

"  And  hail  and  snow  and — " 

Both  were  now  laughing.  The  weather  did 
none  of  those  things.  The  hours  when  the 
daughter  and  mother  were  packing  were  very 
sunny.  Mr.  Walker  came  in,  and  he  tried  to 
help  on  the  exodus,  saying  what  cheerful  things 
he  could,  driving  any  needed  nails,  and  lifting 
as  far  as  his  limited  stock  of  strength  would 
allow.  Ted  and  Billy  arrived,  and,  claiming  to 


216  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

be  "  men,"  handed  the  goods  to  the  packers,  and 
ran  promptly  on  any  errands.  Carrie  served  as 
best  she  could.  It  was  touching  to  see  how 
anxiously  each  lent  a  helping  hand. 

The  room  was  cleared  of  its  stock  of  goods, 
the  floor  nicely  swept,  the  extemporized  counter 
and  shelves  moved  elsewhere.  Then  they  all 
gathered  in  the  empty  apartment — Alma,  her 
father  and  mother,  Billy,  Ted,  and  Carrie — and 
they  did  their  best  toward  saving  the  hour  from 
any  gloom.  And  it  did  not  rain  one  drop  or 
blow  one  gust.  All  day  the  sun  poured  down 
its  blessing,  and  at  its  hour  for  setting  took  one 
more  golden  look  at  the  family,  and  made  it  as 
long  and  kindly  a  look  through  the  window  as 
possible.. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  a  funeral,  mother,  whispered 
Alma. 

The  picture  in  the  entry,  though,  looked 
gloomier  than  ever,  as  if  to  say, 

"  This  young  person  is  doing  very  wrong  in 
trying  to  be  cheerful.  She  will  make  mischief 
in  the  family  yet.  She  has  no  business  here  ;  I 
have." 

"  Whoever  you  are,"  said  Alma,  "  old  scare- 
crow, you  don't  frighten  one  bit." 


THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED.         217 

Now,  was  the  emptying  of  that  front  room 
the  lightening  of  the  ship  I  had  in  mind  ? 

Not  at  all,  but  that  lightening  soon  came. 

"What  is  to  be  done  now  ?"  asked  Alma  one 
day,  in  the  midst  of  a  family  circle  composed  of 
herself,  her  mother,  Ted,  Billy,  and  Carrie. 

Her  father  was  up-stairs  in  his  room.  He  did 
not  feel  very  well,  and  he  could  be  heard  at  in- 
tervals feebly  coughing.  The  family  conference 
therefore  went  on  without  him.  It  was  just  as 
well,  for  if  he  had  been  present  he  would  have 
been  as  much  at  a  loss  to  know  what  he,  Sardin- 
ius  Walker,  could  propose  to  do  in  this  hour  of 
the  family's  extremity,  as  if  on  a  sand-bank,  a 
hundred  miles  from  the  main-land,  without  a 
boat,  no  sail  in  sight,  he  were  asked  how  he 
could  get  ashore. 

Alma  took  the  lead  in  the  conference,  for  the 
good  reason  that  there  was  no  other  leader. 
Mrs.  Walker  complained  of  a  "headache  coming 
on,"  and  her  head  had  already  gone  into  a  thick, 
wide  bandage  of  black,  as  if  a  mourner  over  the 
late  family  catastrophe. 

"  Now,  folks — old  folks,  young  folks — what 
are  we  going  to  do  ? "  asked  Alma,  and  she 
asked  it  in  such  a  pleasant  way,  with  such  a 


218  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

bright  smile,  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  meant, 
"  Now,  who  is  going  to  a  picnic  ? " 

And  Ted  and  Billy  and  Carrie  caught  a  cheer- 
ful sparkle  from  Alma's  beautiful  eyes,  and  their 
faces  lighted  up  as  if  the  smile  accompanied  a 
remark,  "  We  will  all  go." 

"  O,  dear ! "  groaned  Mrs.  Walker. 

She  did  not  feel  as  if  a  picnic  were  before 
them. 

"  They  say,"  continued  Alma,  disregarding 
the  cheerful  ebullition  from  her  mother,  "  they 
say  if  you  want  to  have  money  you  must  save 
it.  You  must  go  without  something.  Now 
what  can  we  do  without  ? " 

"  Don't  see  how  we  can  do  without  a  thing  if 
we  haven't  got  it  in  the  first  place,"  said  Mrs. 
Walker,  in  the  same  encouraging  tone  of  voice 
as  before. 

"  We  shall  see,"  replied  Alma,  nothing  daunt- 
ed. "  Now  I  had  set  my  heart  on  having  a  new 
cloak.  I  have  been  thinking  it  over,  and  I  can 
get  my  old  one  turned — turn  it  myself — and  it 
won't  cost  much  to  dye  it  a  pretty  shade.  A 
new  one  would  have  cost  me  fifteen  dollars.  To 
fix  the  old  one  will  cost  me  two  dollars.  Two 
from  fifteen  leaves  how  much,  children  ? " 


THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED.         219 

"  Thirteen  ! "  they  screamed  enthusiastically. 

"  Only  think  !  Thirteen  already  !  'Thirteen 
dollars  good  as  in  the  hand !  Ted,  you  get  a 
piece  of  paper  and  a  pencil — up  on  the  shelf 
there  under  the  clock — and  set  the  figures 
down.  Thirteen  to  begin  with.  Now,  who 
next  ? " 

"  Well,  if  I  must,"  said  a  doleful  voice  under 
the  black  bandage — "  if  I  must,  I  must.  I  did 
want  a  new  bunnet.  I  can  make  my  old  one  do, 
and  save  four  dollars  on  that." 

"  No,  mother,  I  have  set  my  heart  on  that. 
You  must  have  a  new  hat,"  said  Alma.  "  I  can 
trim  it.  and  in  that  way  it  won't  cost  you  more 
than  a  dollar.  She  must  have  it,  children, 
mustn't  she  ? " 

"  Yes,  yes  ! "  was  the  general  shout. 

"  I  heard  father  say,"  remarked  Ted,  "  that 
he  was  not  going  to  have  a  new  coat." 

"  Poor  man  !  he  deserves  it ;  but  I  suppose  if 
I  buy  velvet  for  a  new  collar,  get  some  nice  silk 
binding  for  the  edges,  rebutton  the  coat,  and  so 
on,  it  won't  cost  much  to  fix  up  the  old  one.  A 
new  one  would  cost  twenty  dollars,  and  we  can 
fix  the  old  one  up  for  three.  Three  from  twenty 
will  leave  how  much  ? " 


220  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Seventeen  !  "  again  shouted  the  children  en- 
thusiastically. 

"  Seventeen  and  thirteen  make  how  much, 
Ted  ?  Set  it  all  down." 

"  Thirty,  Alma  !  " 

"  Only  think !  Thirty  dollars  already,  good  as 
in  the  hand  ! "  • 

The  children's  eyes  snapped  as  if  they  really 
saw  thirty  bright  silver  dollars  heaped  up  in 
Alma's  two  hands. 

"  I  was  going  to  buy  a  pair  of  boots  this  win- 
ter for  three  dollars,"  said  Ted,  who  had  picked 
up  this  money  running  errands  during  the  sum- 
mer.  "  Horace  Haviland's  brother  says  he  can 
fix  up  my  old  ones  good  as  new  for  a  dollar." 

"Well,  that  will  save  two  dollars.  Thirty- 
two  dollars,  in  all,  that  we  have  saved !  The 
sum  is  rolling  up.  I  can  give  up  going  to  the 
'Young  Folks'  Lecture  Course.'  That  would 
have  cost  me  a  dollar  and  a  half.  I  can  take 
more  books  out  of  the  public  library  instead.  I 
can  get  information  that  way,  same  as  if  I  went 
to  lectures.  Thirty-three  dollars  and  a  half ! 
Now,  what  else  can  we  throw  overboard  ? " 

As  this  throwing  overboard  process  was  con- 
tinued, the  Walker  ship,  that  had  been  so  hard 


THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED.         221 

pressed  by  storm,  began  to  right  itself.  It  rose 
up  from  its  humbled  posture.  Its  prow  was 
again  pointed  toward  fair  weather  seas. 

What  else  could  be  given  up  ?  What  thing 
could  go  overboard  ? 

"Not  having  a  store,  we  shall  have  one  fire 
less.  That  will  save  us  half  a  dozen  dollars — 
ten  even,"  declared  Alma.  "  That  will  bring 
the  money  up  to  forty -three  dollars  and  a  half ! 
How  it  does  count  up  ?  Good  as  so  much 
money  in  hand  !  " 

What  else  to  go  overboard  ? 

"  I  can  give  up  my  Christmas  visit,"  sug- 
gested Carrie,  rolling  her  big  eyes  up  toward 
Alma. 

This  meant  a  trip  in  the  steam-cars  to  the 
next  town,  where  Carrie  had  been  invited  to 
spend  Christinas  at  a  cousin's.  This  expendi- 
ture would  only  be  ten  cents  for  the  fare  each 
way,  and  it  was  thought  best  not  to  interfere 
with  that. 

"There!"  said  Alma.  "I  didn't  think! 
Where  are  my  faculties  ?  Not  having  a  store, 
we  shall  need  one  light  less  in  the  evening. 
There  will  be  a  saving." 

Other  things  were   recalled   that,  connected 


222  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

with  the  store,  had  been  an  occasion  of  expen- 
diture. All  this  would  be  saved.  Indeed,  the 
impression  gained  ground  rapidly  that  the  store 
had  been  quite  an  expensive  institution.  As 
this  fiction  did  no  harm,  and  brought  the  family 
conference  much  comfort,  Alma  did  not  inter- 
fere with  it. 

"O,  Alma!"  cried  Ted,  "you  left  out  the 
saving  on  m'other's  bunnet." 

"  So  I  did  !     I  am  getting  old  and  forgetful." 

There  was  now  a  going  back  to  pick  up  omit- 
ted sums. 

."Could  there  be  a  saving  in  our  table  ex- 
penses ? "  next  suggested  Alma. 

This  brought  an  uneasy  look  into  the  chil- 
dren's faces.  Ted's  had  an  aspect  of  horror. 
Ever  since  they  could  recall  the  fact  that  they 
were  Walkers,  the  table  had  been  a  place  where 
they  did  not  get  all  that  they  wanted.  What 
could  be  spared  possibly,  to  go  as  a  sacrifice  into 
this  yawning  deep  of  economy  ?  However,  Alma 
could  think  of  a  few  things  where  the  diet  might 
be  simplified,  she  thought,  "  and  yet,  children,  it 
be  as  nutritious." 

The  children  looked  very  doubtful,  while  Mrs. 
Walker  gave  a  very  dismal  nod. 


THE  SHIP  MUST  BE  LIGHTENED.        223 

So  they  kept  on  giving  up,  throwing  over- 
board, lightening  the  ship. 

"  Now,  let  us  look  at  Ted's  list !  We  have 
gone  all  over  the  house,"  declared  Alma  laugh- 
ing, "  up  into  the  garret,  down  into  the  cellar, 
back  in  the  shed— 

"  Out-doors,  too,  on  the  street,''  suggested  Ted. 

"3Tes,  every- where,  and  we  can  save — O,  my! 
A  hundred  dollars !  "  declared  Alma. 

A  shout  of  exultation  now  went  up  from  the 
small  Walkers.  It  did  seem  worth  while  to 
lighten  the  ship.  Alrna  went  to  sleep  very  com- 
posedly that  night,  and  her  rest  was  as  comfort- 
able as  Bob's  ever  had  been  on  the  great  deep 
when,  after  a  hard  watch,  he  would  creep,  stiff 
and  tired  and  sleepy,  into  his  bunk,  and  the 
Andromeda  would  ride  up  and  down  like  a 
cradle,  rocking  Sailor-boy  Bob  into  a  deep, 
grateful  slumber.  So  Alma  slept  this  night; 
and,  best  of  all,  she  felt  that  her  heavenly  Fa- 
ther's hand  was  on  the  helm  of  life's  vessel, 
guiding  it  safely  over  the  deep. 


224  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTER  XY. 

HOW? 

THE  ship  had  been  lightened.  Another  ques- 
tion now  came  up,  and  a  far  more  difficult 
one  than  any  discussed  in  the  last  chapter.  It 
was  this  :  How  keep  alive  the  crew  that  must  run 
the  ship  ?  How  get  just  the  necessities  of  life — 
such  as  bread  and  butter,  clothing  and  shoes  for 
Ted,  Billy,  and  Carrie,  also  father  and  mother? 
Somehow,  Alma  did  not  think  of  herself.  She 
could  get  along  on  what  they  did  not  need  to 
use ;  on  what  they  left  behind.  There  must  be 
another  conference. 

Mr.  Walker  was  absent  from  this  conference 
also.  He  kept  his  room,  and  could  be  heard  at 
intervals,  as  before,  still  feebly  coughing. 

"  Well,  folks,"  said  Alma,  the  leader  now  as 
ut  the  previous  conference,  "  what  can  we  do  to- 
ward getting  some  bread  and  butter,  and  so  on  ? 
I  thought  we  had  better  talk  it  over." 

Mrs.  Walker  did  not  have  a  black  bandage 
round  her  head  this  morning.  It  was  round  her 


How?  225 

soul,  though,  and  gloomily  she  looked  out  of  the 
window. 

"  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  get  more  scholars.  I 
Lave  twelve  now  every  morning."  (The  school 
did  not  keep  in  the  afternoon.)  "  If  I  could  get 
three  more ! " 

Alma  looked  round  on  Ted,  Billy,  and  Carrie, 
who  had  come  at  different  times  into  her  school 
flock,  as  if  to  suggest,  "  Could  you  get  me  any 
scholars  ? " 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  Alma,"  said  Ted.  "  WQ 
might  each  count  as  two!  That  would  give 
three  more." 

This  made  the  conference  laugh,  but  it  did 
not  bring  any  new  scholars. 

"  Well,  I  will  see  what  can  be  done,"  said  the 
leader. 

"  I  think  I  can  count  on  some  sewing,  you 
know,  Alma,"  remarked  Mrs.  Walker. 

With  the  store  had  come  applications  from 
customers  for  ^the  services  of  any  body  who 
could  do  "a  little  sewing."  Such  opportunities 
for  work  had  been  eagerly  accepted  by  Mrs. 
Walker,  Alma  assisting.  Once  the  mother  had 
been  a  dress-maker.  This  knowledge  of  the  use 

of  the  needle    had  never  been  lost,  and  Mrs. 
15 


226  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Walker  would  always  make  the  dresses  of  Alma 
and  Carrie  until,  one  day,  she  told  Alma  that 
she  "  guessed  Alma,  being  a  big  girl,  must  go  to 
a  reg'lar  dress-maker." 

When  the  store  was  opened  Alma  insisted 
upon  it  that  her  mother  should  teach  her  how 
to  "do  dress-making,"  as  far  as  Mrs.  Walker 
understood  it.  Several  times  the  two  had  had 
opportunities  to  make  dresses  for  little  folks, 
and  they  had  accepted  these  chances. 

"Now,  mother,"  said  Alma,  "why  not  put 
your  shingle  out,  and  say,  'Dress-making  for 
misses  ? '  That  means  me  as  well  as  you,'  for  I 
will  help  you." 

This  rather  startled  the  conference. 

"  Not — not — like  Joe  Bigler's  grandmother  ? " 
said  Ted. 

Joe  Bigler  was  not  a  favorite  with  Ted.  This 
is  what  Joe  Bigler  one  day  in  school  wrote  on 
his  slate  :  "  My  gr^ndmarm  makes  dresses.  She 
has  a  sine,  DRESMAKIN  DONE  HERE.  It  is  stuck 
on  her  house." 

Ted  thought  at  the  time,  "  I  hope  none  of  my 
folks  will  have  a  sign  up  like  that." 

There  was  a  little  family  pride  opposed  to  this 
measure.  It  must  go  overboard. 


How  ?  227 

"  Why,"  said  Alma,  "  what  is  the  difference 
between  that  and  a  store  ?  We  had  a  window 
all  filled  up  with  goods.  Wasn't  that  a  sign? 
We  put  up  with  that.  Any  thing,  I  say,  that  is 
honest." 

This  argument  settled  the  matter.  When  it 
was  the  children's  turn  to  mention  any  thing 
they  could  do  toward  the  support  of  the  family, 
they  were  very  loyal  to  the  name  and  interests 
of  Walker.  Ted  thought  he  could  get  some 
body's  office  fire  to  build.  Billy  crowed  that  he 
would  "  try."  Carrie  only  nodded  her  head,  but 
it  was  a  very  zealous  nod.  It  meant  something 
that  was  very  definite  in  her  own  mind,  but  she 
did  not  care  to  speak  it  out. 

Alma  felt  drawn  toward  the  house  of  Squire 
Winthrop,  especially  to  ask  if  "  Aunt  Mary  " 
knew  of  any  thing  that  Alma  could  possibly  do. 
Aunt  Mary,  alas !  knew  of  nothing. 

"  Is  the  squire  better  ? "  asked  Alma  in  the 
hall. 

"Yes.  he  is  decidedly  improved.  We  keep 
him  very  quiet.  He  doesn't  yet  know  about  the 
failure  of  Bangs  Brothers,"  said  Aunt  Mary. 
"  Yes,  we  keep  him  very  quiet." 

Thump,  thump,  thump ! 


228  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

It  was  a  sound  like  that  of  a  pounding  in  a 
room  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Aunt  Mary.  "  It  is  that 
man,  I  do  believe,  that  is  a-pounding.  I  left  a 
cane  with  him,  if  he  wanted  any  thing.  I'll  be 
right  down  again." 

"  Remember  me  to  him,  please." 

Aunt  Mary  came  down  quickly. 

"  Just  think,  Alma  !  His  hearin'  is  dreadful 
good.  He  heard  your  voice,  and  he  wants  you 
to  come  up.  So  you  must  go.  Don't  excite 
him,  or  say  any  thing  about  the  failure  of  Bangs 
Brothers." 

Squire  "Winthrop  was  bolstered  up  in  his  bed, 
looking  very  pale  and  thin,  but  he  was  conva- 
lescent to  this  extent — that  he  had  "just  begun 
to  set  up  a  leetle,"  Aunt  Mary  said.  He  was  a 
handsome  old  man,  with  his  soft  white  hair,  his 
fair  complexion,  and  blue  eyes  that  "  carried  a 
smile  in  them,"  Carrie  Walker  said.  The  furni- 
ture in  the  room  was  old-fashioned,  but  very 
comfortable,  and  Aunt  Mary  saw  that  every 
tiling  was  kept  in  excellent  order.  There  was  a 
soft,  thick  carpet  on  the  floor,  and  this  was  more 
agreeable  to  Alma's  feet  than  the  floors  at  home, 
almost  all  of  which  were  bare.  Behind  a  pair 


How  ?  229 

of  tall  brass  andirons,  brightly  burnished,  was  a 
fire  of  rock  maple,  and  it  was  very  acceptable 
this  chilly  autumn  day.  The  squire  was  very 
glad  to  see  Alma,  and  he  had  a  kind  word  to 
say  about  those  at  home,  and  that  he  hoped  her 
father  was  doing  well ;  and  then  he  said  he  was 
glad  Bob  was  coming  home  in  the  spring. 

"I  have  been  somewhat  worried  about  you 
all,  business  has  been  so  affected.  For  sonte 
time  I  was  out  of  my  head,  and  didn't  know  any 
thing  and  couldn't  render  any  help  to  any  body, 
and  I  suppose  it  was  then  you  gave  up  your 
store ;  and  Bangs  Brothers,  they  have  stopped 
too,  and— 

"  Squire  Winthrop  !  " 

It  was  Aunt  Mary.  She  had  a  very  sharp 
nose  and  keen,  black  eyes.  These  gave  her  face 
an  aspect  of  penetrativeness,  as  if  she  were  con- 
tinually making  an  investigation.  Then  Ted 
said  that  her  spectacles  made  her  look  "as  if  she 
were  going  right  through  you."  There  was  a 
big  store  of  energy  behind  that  penetrating  look, 
and  when  Aunt  Mary  did  start  to  make  an  in- 
vestigation she  was  quite  sure  to  go  deep  down 
into  a  subject.  She  was  a  person  of  many  ex- 
cellent qualities,  a  notable  housekeeper,  a  good 


230  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

financier,  could  hold  her  tongue  and  be  as  reticent 
as  a  stone  wall,  and  was  very  even  and  cheerful 
in  her  temperament.  She  made  a  desirable  ex- 
ecutive for  the  domestic  department  of  Squire 
Winthrop,  who  had  been  a  widower  many  years. 
She  now  closely  eyed  the  squire.  She  eared 
him,  also,  eagerly  listening  when  she  had  said : 

"  Dear  me,  Squire  Winthrop  !  How — how 
did  you  hear  about  business  matters  ?  Been 
a-keepin'  'em  from  you — " 

The  squire  smiled. 

"  One  day,  when  you  were  gone  a-shopping, 
Anastasia  brought  up  the  Globe  that  had  just 
arrived,  Mrs.  Walker." 

Anastasia  was  the  hired  girl.  She  had 
thoughtlessly  brought  up  the  mail.  In  it  was 
the  Globe,  an  ambitious  name  for  the  local  sheet 
that  gave  the  news  that  happened  in  a  small 
patch  of  this  earthly  sphere,  a  patch  known  as 
Old  bury  port. 

"  When  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  do  any 
thing,  the  Globe  told  me  that  the  house  of 
Bangs  Brothers  had  failed,  and  that  the  Walk- 
ers had  closed  their  store.  I  was  very  sorry  for 
you.  I  wonder  what  Bangs  Brothers  will  do. 
However,  let  that  go." 


How  ?  231 

Aunt  Mary  did  not  say  any  thing,  but  she 
looked  very  significantly  at  Anastasia,  who  now 
entered,  bringing  a  big  maple-stick  for  a  back 
log.  When  she  had  left,  the  squire  remarked : 

"  You  see,  Aunt  Mary,  young  boys  like  your 
patient  will  do  strange  things  sometimes.  I  be- 
lieve I  went  all  through  the  Globe,  advertise- 
ments and  every  thing.  I  was  very  hungry  for 
news,  being  a  boy,  too,  you  know." 

Aunt  Mary  now  smiled,  and  prudently  said 
nothing.  She  once  confessed  to  Alma  that  she 
found  the  "Winthrops,  especially,  did  like  to  have 
their  own  way,  and  it  was  not  best  to  oppose 
them. 

"  Let  me  see,  Alma,"  resumed  the  squire ; 
"  you  have  a  school  in  the  morning." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  how  would  you  like  in  the  afternoon 
to  come  and  read  to  me?  I  know  my  house- 
keeper wouldn't  like  to  have  me  read  my- 
self—" 

The  housekeeper  shook  her  head  authorita- 
tively. 

"  And  you  might  plan  to  be  here  a  part  of 
each  afternoon,  between  one  and  two  hours,  say, 
and  read  me  the  papers  or  some  book.  I  will 


232  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

make  the  compensation  agreeable.  Would 
twenty-five  dollars  a  month  be  satisfactory  com- 
pensation ? " 

Twenty-five  ?  Why,  in  its  most  flourishing 
days,  the  store  had  not  brought  much  more  than 
that. 

"  I — I — should  be  delighted  to  do  it,"  said 
Alma. 

And  what  she  uttered  with  her  mouth  was 
not  half  as  expressive  as  the  satisfaction  that 
glowed  in  her  eyes. 

"  When  shall  we  begin,  sir  ? " 

"  To-morrow,"  replied  the  squire  promptly. 

Aunt  Mary  over  in  her  corner  had  her  doubts 
about  the  judiciousness  of  all  this  "  newspaper 
readin'  and  book  readin',"  as  she  silently  ex- 
pressed herself;  but  knowing  fully  the  Win- 
throp  willfulness  she  said  nothing,  and  resolutely 
bent  over  her  work. 

The  profits  of  Alma's  new  occupation  made  a 
very  happy  family  at  the  Walker  home,  while 
the  occupation  itself  was  a  very  agreeable  one 
to  Alma. 

It  was  so  very  comfortable  there  in  the  squire's 
room.  As  the  autumn  air  grew  chillier,  the 
squire's  open  fire  grew  bigger.  From  the  tern- 


How  ?  233 

perature  without  you  could  tell  the  size  of  the 
fire  within.  The  squire,  in  his  long  dressing- 
gown  of  gray  trimmed  with  crimson,  would  oc- 
cupy one  side  of  the  fire,  and  Alma  would  sit 
opposite.  I  do  think  it  made  Aunt  Mary  a  lit- 
tle jealous  to  see  the  squire  listening  so  content- 
edly to  that  fair  young  reader,  but  she  wisely 
sealed  up  in  her  soul  all  captious  thoughts. 
Alma  enjoyed  any  thing  like  a  book.  She  ap- 
preciated, too,  the  comfortable,  tasty  surround- 
ings of  the  squire's  home.  Then  there  was  an 
agreeable  sense  that  the  squire  was  taking  care 
of  her,  and  he  seemed  very  much  like  a  father — 
an  ideal  father. 

Mr.  Walker  had  been  to  Alma  more  like  a 
big,  well-meaning,  but  crippled  child,  that  must 
be  taken  care  of.  Ever  since  she  could  run 
about  and  earn  something,  she  was  helping  to 
support  the  family.  She  found  this  necessity 
a  luxury.  She  rejoiced  in  the  privilege.  And 
yet — and  yet — it  was  pleasant  to  have  a  change 
sometimes  and  feel  that  there  was  some  one 
looking  after  her,  and  Squire  Winthrop  was 
filling  out  in  part  the  measure  of  that  idea.  So 
Alma  read  with  much  enjoyment,  and  the  squire 
listened  with  a  satisfaction  as  great. 


234  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

At  home,  Alma's  new  earnings  were  extreme- 
ly acceptable.  Still  there  was  room  for  more, 
especially  when  the  white  flakes  were  flying,  as 
if  trying  to  make  white,  feathery  wings  that 
would  fold  nicely  and  tightly  down  upon  the 
earth,  and  keep  it  warm,  which  they  could  not 
possibly  do. 

Alma  thought  of  a  plan  that  might  be  to  the 
Walkers'  profit,  and  she  asked  the  squire's  mind 
about  it  one  day. 

"  Would  you  have  any  objection,  Squire  Win- 
throp,  to  our  letting  part  of  our  house  ?  There 
are  a  few  rooms  we  could  spare  as  well  as  not," 
said  Alma. 

"  Suit  yourself,  Alma.  I  think  I  can  give 
your  father  some  writing  when  he  is  a  little 
better,  and  it  will  offset  your  rent.  Let  any 
rooms  you  please." 

This  put  canvas  wings  to  that  lightened 
Walker  vessel,  but  they  all  said  : 

"If  we  can  get  any  rent  for  the  squire  by 
letting  rooms,  we  will.  We  shall  feel  more  in- 
dependent." 

"  We  had  better,"  said  Mrs.  Walker,  "  get  a 
real  estate  agent  to  let  them  for  us.  We  don't 
seem  to  know  of  a  tenant." 


How  ?  235 

"  Very  well,  mother,"  replied  Alma. 

"  And  we  can  give  a  tenant  all  the  rooms  on 
the  left  hand  side  of  the  hall ;  can't  we,  Alma  ? 
We  can  by  squeezing  ourselves  a  little,"  said 
Mrs.  Walker. 

Yes,  by  squeezing  they  could  offer  a  tenement 
of  five  rooms  to  a  small  family.  They  were 
used  to  squeezing.  It  was  Carrie  who  abounded 
in  expedients  and  ventures,  and  was  now  instru- 
mental in  securing  a  tenant.  She  was  on  the 
hunt  for  opportunities  to  help  along  the  family 
one  day,  when  she  saw  on  a  bulletin  board  out- 
side an  office  door  this  tempting  notice :  "  Girl 
Wanted." 

Her  big  eyes  took  in  this  announcement  with 
satisfaction. 

"  Perhaps  I  can  earn  something,"  thought  the 
intrepid  little  soul,  and  she  ventured  into  the 
office. 

u  What  do  you  want  this  morning,  my  little 
girl  ? "  asked  a  gray -whiskered  man,  looking  up 
from  a  desk. 

"Well,  what — what  do  you  want?  It  says 
out  there,  '  Girl  wanted.'  I  thought — " 

The  man  laughed  as  he  said, 

"Well,  dear,  it  is  a  big  girl,  a  servant-girl  for 


236  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

housework  that  is  wanted.  I  ought  to  have  been 
more  definite." 

"  O — h  ! "  exclaimed  the  disappointed  Carrie. 

"  We  have  various  wants  here,"  said  the  man 
kindly,  anxious  to  say  something  that  would  di- 
vert this  disappointed  applicant.  "  We  want 
houses  for  people  and  people  for  houses — " 

"  O,  you  let  places  3 " 

"  Yes,  we  let  houses  if  any  body  has  them." 

"  O,  we  have  five  rooms  to  let ! " 

"  Have  you  ?  Well,  if  your  folks  will  tell  me 
about  them,  may  be  I  can  get  a  tenant." 

As  the  result  of  this  interview,  Alma  called  to 
see  Mr.  Drown.  He  was  a  stranger  in  town, 
and  for  that  reason  was  anxious  to  pick  up  em- 
ployment, and  offered  his  services  to  Alma  at 
such  low  figures  that  she  engaged  him  to  obtain 
a  tenant.  He  soon  sent  her  a  note,  saying  : 

"  I  have  secured  a  tenant — an  old  man  and  an 
old  woman.  Very  quiet  people.  No  children. 
Will  pay  seventy -five  dollars.  They  will  come 
to-morrow,  as  they  are  very  anxious  to  move 
before  any  more  winter  storms  come.  You  said 
the  rooms  were  ready,  and  I  know  you  would 
like  to  have  the  rent  begin  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible." 


How  ?  237 

"  He  didn't  say  who  they  were,"  observed  Mr. 
"Walker  feebly  ;  a  closely-confined  invalid  this 
winter,  but  hoping  soon  to  handle  his  pen  for 
the  squire.  " 

"  No,"  replied  Mrs.  Walker,  "  but  they  will 
be  here  in  the  morning,  and  can  speak  for  them- 
selves. I  think  we  can  trust  him — Mr.  Drown — 
to  send  us  good  tenants." 

Alma  was  away,  and  did  not  return  home  till 
late  in  the  evening,  or  she  would  have  made  in- 
quiries of  the  real  estate  agent  and  obtained  in- 
formation about  the  expected  neighbors. 

The  next  morning,  before  the  breakfast  table 
had  been  cleared,  somebody  in  the  street  shout- 
ed, "  Whoa— a— a  !  Whoa,  there,  I  tell  ye ! " 

Billy  was  out-doors,  and  heard  the  teamster. 
He  came  rushing  into  the  house. 

"  Goods  have  come,  and  I  opened  the  front 
door  and  told  the  man  where  to  put  them," 
cried  Billy. 

Alma  went  into  the  hall,  and  the  teamster  was 
there,  a  chair  in  each  hand. 

"  Bright  and  early,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir.  Do  you  know  who  these  folks 
are?" 

"No,  lady.      The  real  estate  man,  Drown, 


238  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

gave  me  the  job,  and  I  axed  the  folks  no  ques- 
tions. They  live  in  a  good  neighborhood.  I 
told  'em  I  would  see  the  things  were  sot  round. 
They  are  comin',  you  know." 

"  But  they  have  never  been  here.  How  do 
they  know  they  will  like  the  place  ? " 

"  O,  they  probably  know  the  reputation  of  the 
house.  Every  body  knows  it  is  first-class." 

This  comforted  Alma,  to  think  every  body 
called  her  home  "  a  first-class  house." 

In  a  short  time  Alma,  saw  an  old  lady  watch- 
ing the  house.  Then  this  watcher  came  up  to 
the  door  and  pulled  the  bell-knob. 

"  I  thought  I  would  follow  my  things,"  said 
the  old  lady  to  Alma. 

"  O,  you — you  are  the  one  that  rented  the 
rooms." 

"  I  am  one  of  them.     Mr.  Drown  told  us." 

"  "Well,  make  yourselves  at  home,  and  tell  us 
if  we  can  help  you.  May  I  ask  your  name  ? " 

The  old  lady  gave  it  at  once,  but  Alma  did 
not  catch  it  distinctly. 

"  I  wont  as^  her  again  just;  now,"  thought 
Alma.  "  She  is  bothered  enough  about  moving, 
I  know." 

Another  load  and  an  old  man  came  soon.     By 


How?  239 

dinner-time  the  goods  had  ceased  to  arrive,  and 
no  one  of  the  bright-eyed  Walker  children  had 
seen  the  old  man  or  the  old  woman  leave  the 
house.  Through  the  afternoon,  sounds  of  the 
moving  of  furniture  could  be  heard  by  the 
Walkers. 

About  dusk  Mary  Haviland  called. 

"  They've  come,  haven't  they  ? "  Mary,  in  her 
eager,  excited  way,  asked  of  Alma. 

"  Our  new  neighbors  ?  Yes,  though  I  don't 
know  who  they  really  are  yet.  The  woman 
gave  her  name,  but  I  am  getting  old,  I  think, 
for  I  didn't  understand  her.  I  am  going  to 
ask  again." 

"  Then  you  don't  know  ? " 

"  Why,  no." 

"  They  told  me  down  street  at  my  grocer's." 

"Well?" 

"Well  what,  Alma?" 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  tell  me  ? " 

"  O,  they  are  the  Willoughbys." 

"The  who?" 

"Them  folks  what  told  the  bad  news  about 
Bob." 

"  The  very  folks  ?  " 

"  So  my  grocer  says,  and  he  says  they  don't 


240  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

probably  know  you  are  Bob's  folks.  They 
haven't  lived  here  long,  and  they  don't  know 
every  thing." 

"  The  Willoughbys ! " 

"  Yes,  I  believe  they  had  to  move  right  off. 
House  was  sold  over  their  heads.  Mis'  Wil- 
loughby,  I  believe  they  said,  she  only  wanted  to 
put  her  feet  inside  some  place,  for  she  was  all 
worried  out." 

"  Indeed  ! " 

"  You'll  find  it  jest  so,"  was  Mary's  last  affir- 
mation as  she  turned  away  and  left  Alma's  pres- 
ence. Alma  sat  alone  in  the  kitchen,  into  which 
the  night  was  fast  hurrying,  darkening  every 
corner  and  bringing  out  in  vivid  contrast  the  red 
light  of  the  fire  in  the  stove. 

"  O,  dear,  here  is  a  new  trouble — the  Wil- 
loughbys ! "  thought  Alma.  "  Why  do  they 
come?  They  can't  know  who  we  are!  O, 
dear!" 

A  new  storm  seemed  to  threaten  the* "Walker 
vessel.  I  said  our  heavenly  Father  was  at  the 
helm.  Would  he  let  go  his  hand  now,  and  ask 
Alrna  to  care  for  herself  ? 

"  No,"  said  Alma. 

But  why  should  the   old   trouble  come  up 


How?  241 

again  and  walk  into  the  house,  as  it  were,  before 
the  Walkers'  very  eyes  ? 

"  I  must  leave  it  all  with  God,"  Alma  mur- 
mured. 

And  that  is  where  she  left  it  all — in  the  arms 
of  the  heavenly  Father.  She  was  thinking  upon 
the  subject  when  she  went  to  sleep.  She  felt 
that  it  would  be  a  relief  if  Bob  were  at  home 
and  she  could  tell  him  this  trouble. 

"He  will  be  here  in  the  spring,"  she  mur- 
mured. 

Would  he  ?  If  she  could  have  seen  as  far 
as  the  heart  of  the  South  Seas,  and  watched  a 
drifting  boat,  she  might  have  seriously  doubted 

whether  Bob  would  ever  see  home  again. 
16 


24:2  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ADRIFT. 

WHAT  was  it?    A  clump  of  drift-wood,  a 
boat,  the  carcass  of  a  whale,  a  fragment  of 
the  wreck  of  a  ship,  a — what  could  it  be  ? 

Captain  Granby,  looking  off  one  afternoon 
from  the  deck  of  the  Andromeda,  could  not  say. 
Bob,  watching  the  same  object,  could  not  say. 
One  moment  it  would  be  "  drift-wood  "  in  Bob's 
opinion.  Then  Captain  Granby  might  say,  "  I 
really  think  it  is  something  else.  I  do  believe 
somebody  is  on  it,  waving  something." 

Neither  eye  nor  glass  would  declare  what  it 
was.  There  was  very  little  wind  at  this  time  to 
take  the  Andromeda  anywhere,  and  none  at  all 
to  carry  the  Andromeda  toward  this  drifting 
object. 

I — I — wish,  cap'n,"  said  Bob,  in  his  eager 
way,  that  lock  of  hair  on  his  forehead  curling 
out  prominently,  as  it  seemed  to  have  a  strong 
tendency  to  do  when  he  was  excited,  "  I  wish 
you  would  let  Ralph  and  me  take  a  boat  and  go 


ADRIFT.  243 

off  and  see  what  that  is.  The  vessel  is  not  mak- 
ing much  of  a  headway,  and  you  could  lie  to 
and  pick  us  up.  May  be  something  important 
there." 

"Well-1-1,"  said  the  captain.  His  tone  said 
what  the  uttered  word  did  not — that  he  was  very 
doubtful  whether  it  would  do  any  good.  Bob 
had  a  magnetic  eagerness  that  always  influenced 
Ralph,  and  he  jumped  with  Bob  into  the  boat 
when  it  was  lowered. 

There  was  no  whale-hunting  that  day,  but 
work  previously  had  been  very  pressing.  Whale 
after  whale  had  been  captured,  the  try-works 
had  been  in  constant  service,  and  the  Androm- 
eda's load  of  oil  for  home  was  increasing.  The 
crew  were  tired,  and  at  the  time  that  the  boys 
left  the  Andromeda  many  of  their  shipmates 
were  stretched  out  in  the  bunks  below.  A  few 
of  the  crew  witnessed  this  seemingly  insignifi- 
cant departure. 

"  Good  luck ! "  cried  Horace  Haviland.  "  If 
that  is  a  wreck  of  a  pirate  off  there,  bring  us 
a  pot  of  gold  .if  you  find  any  was  left  on 
board ! " 

Steve  Wyckham,  with  the  sneer  that  he  gen- 
erally kept  on  hand  nowadays,  flung  out  a 


244  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

suggestion,  "  A  joke  if  you  chaps  didn't  get 
back  again ! " 

" { You  chaps '  can  take  care  of  themselves," 
Bob  informed  him,  and  the  boat  was  pushed  off. 
The  great  sea  was  quiet  for  such  a  body  of  water, 
and  yet  it  showed  a  long  glassy  swell,  now  lift- 
ing, now  lowering  this  boat  of  discovery.  The 
Andromeda^  with  its  lazily  flapping  sails,  its 
tackle  and  fall  at  the  mast-head,  its  try-works 
projecting  above  the  rails,  receded  every  mo- 
ment, the  heads  of  the  men  that  leaned  over 
the  vessel's  side  dwindling  to  a  row  of  peas 
along  the  rail.  On  all  that  stretching  waste  of 
water  nothing  astern  could  be  seen  save  the 
Andromeda,  and  ahead  was  that  strange,  drift- 
ing mass.  Between  these  two  objects,  one  with 
life  aboard,  the  other  seemingly  dead,  was  this 
boat  with  the  two  young  men. 

"  Can  you  make  it  out  ?  "  asked  Ralph,  as  he 
saw  Bob  twisting  his  head  and  trying  to  look 
round,  after  an  energetic  pull. 

"  Well,  Ralph,  we  are  a  good  deal  nearer,  and 
it  looks  like  timber  of  some  kind.  I  see  some- 
thing beyond  it  that  looks  like  poles  or  brooms 
or  trees  sticking  up.  It  is  very  small." 

"You  do?" 


ADEIFT.  245 

"  Yes.     Just  look  !  " 

They  both  rested  on  their  oars  and  looked 
ahead. 

"  You  are  right,  Bob.  Strange  we  did  not 
see  it  from  the  deck." 

"  Cap'n  Granby  and  I  both  thought  we  saw 
something  beyond  that  clump  there,  and  once  he 
said,  'Bob,  seems  to  me  there  is  an  island  off 
there,'  but  it  was  kind  of  hazy  in  that  direction, 
and  whatever  we  saw  went  out  of  sight.  It 
would  have  been  seen  better  if  it  wasn't  for 
the  haze." 

All  this  time  the  Andromeda  was  halting  on 
the  great  sea. 

"'Most  there  to  that  stuff!"  cried  Ealph. 
"  Whatever  it  is,  we  shall  be  there  soon.  One 
consolation ! " 

"  Soon  "  at  sea  has  a  variety  of  meanings.  It 
may  be  a  distance  of  two  miles  or  one  mile  or 
five  miles ;  and  when  a  ship  is  swashing  along 
through  the  waters  at  a  lively  rate,  "•soon" 
means  a  number  of  good  leagues.  In  this  case 
"  soon "  meant  farther  than  Ralph  supposed. 
The  Andromeda  still  lay  almost  becalmed  on 
the  vast  ocean. 
"  'Most  there,  Kalph ! "  cried  Bob,  now  trying 


246  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

his  hand  at  assuring  a  companion  of  a  speedy 
voyage.  "I  did  not  know  it  was  so  far  here. 
However,  we  shall  soon  be  all  right." 

"  Soon  "  in  this  case  also  meant  more  than 
Bob  conjectured.  The  longest  distance,  though, 
has  its  limit,  and  the  floating  mass  was  reached. 

"Piece  of  a  wreck!"  said  Kalph.  "That 
is  all ! " 

"  So  it  is,"  replied  Bob. 

They  rowed  about  the  misshapen  mass,  a  relic 
of  a  hard  fight  between  a  ship  and  some  storm, 
and  tried  to  discover  a  clew  to  its  name. 

"  Looks  like  a  piece  of  the  stern,"  said  Bob. 

"  Yes,"  said  Kalph,  "  row  ahead.  I  don't 
know  but  what  I  see  some  letters." 

They  had  almost  circumnavigated  the  bulky 
mass  when  Bob  shouted, 

"  There  is  a  C." 

"  There  is  an  A,"  said  Ealph. 

"  Yes,"  added  Bob,  "  I  can  make  out  S  and 
P." 

The  other  letters  were  under  the  surface  of 
the  water.  The  boys  looked  down  and  saw  be- 
neath the  green,  tremulous  surface  of  the  sea 
two  more  letters,  A  and  R. 

"  This  unfortunate  craft  was  the  Caspar,  Bob," 


ADEIFT.  247 

declared  Ralph.  "  The  Caspar  has  gone,  now, 
though." 

"  Let  me  see  if  I  can't  get  a  relic,  Ralph." 

Whistling  about  this  melancholy  sample  of  a 
disaster  at  sea,  Bob  noticed  that  a  part  of  the 
name  was  loose. 

"  O,  good  !  See,  Ralph !  Here's  a  little  board 
on  which  is  P  in  the  name,  and  it  has  worked 
loose  somehow.  I'll  rip  it  off.  Here  she  comes. 
There,  she  is  mine  now.  A  whole  P  ! " 

"Well,  we  must  be  going.  Sun  is  working 
down  toward  the  horizon.  Good-bye,  Caspar, 
thou  lonely,  forsaken  soul !  " 

"  Good-bye,"  echoed  Bob.  "  Never  will  see 
you  again." 

And  was  it,  "  Good-bye,  Andromeda  ?" 

Where  was  that  vessel  ?  The  boys  looked  off 
in  surprise.  Had  that  craft  become  a  wreck,  and 
gone  down  into  the  sea  ? 

"  Where  is  she,  Bob  ? " 

Bob  turned  round  and  exultingly  shouted, 

"  There  she  is  ! " 

He  pointed  off  toward  the  old  whaler,  lifting 
still  its  canvas  above  the  sea.  They  had  not 
looked  in  the  right  direction  ;  but  there  she  was 
over  in  the  south-east.  How  good  she  looked ! 


248  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

"  That  shows,  Bob,  how  easy  it  is  to  get 
turned  round.  We  had  better  put  for  home." 

"  I  did  hope  we  might  get  to  that  island,"  said 
Bob  regretfully. 

Ralph  knew  Bob's  love  of  adventure,  and  was 
not  disposed  to  encourage  it  any  further.  The 
sun,  too,  was  lying  on  the  western  water,  a 
round  hub  of  gold,  out  of  which  shot  spokes  of 
flame  through  the  masses  of  cloud.  In  an  op- 
posite direction,  on  a  sea  almost  without  a  rip- 
ple save  that  long,  heavy,  unbroken  swell,  rose 
the  Andromeda.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight — that 
motionless  vessel  rising  up  in  the  symmetry  of 
its  rigging,  of  mast  and  spar,  of  rope  and  can- 
vas. Then  the  beautiful  became  the  majestic  as 
the  eye  rested  upon  the  vast,  silent  sea,  chang- 
ing from  a  chilling  indigo  in  the  east  to  a  wide 
stretch  of  crimson  in  the  west.  Besides  the 
Andromeda,  the  only  visible  objects  on  the  sea 
were  the  fragment  of  the  unfortunate  Caspar 
and  that  little  island. 

"  Put  in,  Bob,  put  in  !  "  said  Kalph. 

He  knew  his  companion's  relish  for  discovery  ; 
that  he  was  inclined  to  linger  not  only  until  the 
last  moment,  but  the  moment  after. 

"  Just  one  more  relic,  Ralph." 


ADEIFT.  249 

"  Bob,  you  are  a  booby !  Come !  I  am  going 
to  row  my  part  of  the  boat  to  the  ship.  You 
can  stay  here  and  tie  your  part  of  the  boat  to 
the  Caspar" 

"  Keady  !  "  said  Bob,  pulling  on  his  oar.  "  I 
wonder  where  that  Caspar  is  going?" 

"  Going  ?    Nowhere." 

"  No,  I  think  she  is  drifting." 

"  Any  thing,  I  suppose,  on  the  water,  is  pulled 
round  by  currents,  but  this — " 

"  No,  there  is  quite  a  drift  to  her  A  pretty 
strong  current  I  thought  I  noticed  when  we 
were  hanging  round  the  Caspar" 

"  O,  I  guess  not !  " 

"  I  think  so." 

"  Well,  I  hope  it  won't  interfere  with  us." 

"  O,  probably  not !  We  are  good  for  it. 
Come,  Ealph,  sing!" 

The  boys  raised  a  boating  song.  It  sounded 
so  lonely  on  that  lonely  sea.  They  pulled  away, 
strongly,  steadily.  The  sun  had  now  gone  down, 
but  from  the  agitation  of  colors  in  the  west  that 
monarch  seemed  to  be  making  an  effort  to  get 
up  again,  flaunting  overhead  some  of  his  imperial 
drapery.  The  boys  were  looking  toward  the 
west,  as  they  rowed  away,  admiring  that  last  gor- 


250  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

geous  display  of  the  sunset,  when  Ralph  ex- 
claimed, 

"Bob,  before  you  turn  round,  guess  how 
far  we  are  from  the  Andromeda!  Half  way 
there  ? " 

"  O,  yes !  more  !  " 

"  I'll  guess  two  fifths,"  said  Ralph,  who  was 
not  so  sanguine  as  Bob. 

The  boys  rested  on  their  oars  a  moment 
and  then  looked  round.  The  Andromeda  was 
gone ! 

"  Whew-w-w  !  "  exclaimed  Bob.  "  Where  is 
she?" 

"  That  is  an  interesting  question,"  said 
Ralph. 

"  Easy  to  ask  the  question !  It  will  be  more 
interesting  to  get  an  answer." 

"  O,  there  it  is  !  "  cried  Ralph. 

He  pointed  toward  a  black  object  towering 
above  the  sea. 

"  You  are  right !  "  cried  Bob,  eager  to  assent 
to  any  thing.  "  JSTow,  spring  for  it !  " 

The  boys  pulled  as  they  only  did  on  the  most 
exciting  kind  of  a  whale  hunt,  and  then  looked 
again. 

"  I  think  I  see  it,  Bob,  over  there  !  " 


ADRIFT.  251 

Ralph  pointed  toward  an  indistinct  pillar  of 
something  rising  out  of  the  sea. 

"  But — but,  Ralph,  I  see  something  over  there 
at  the  left." 

There  were  two  uncertain  vapory  columns, 
and  which  was  the  Andromeda  f 

"  We  might  row  sort  of  between  them,  Bob, 
and  then  we  can  tell  which  is  the  ship." 

"  Well-1-1." 

The  two  boys  pulled  away  violently.  Neither 
expressed  the  fear  that  was  in  his  mind — that 
by  the  time  they  had  reached  a  point  between 
those  misty  somethings,  each  "  something " 
might  be  nothing  !  Neither  cared  to  sing  now. 
Ralph  looked  very  anxious.  Bob  looked  anx- 
ious and  reckless  also.  No  ship,  the  sun  gone 
down,  a  vast  unknown  sea  about  them  !  There 
were  clouds  on  one  section  of  the  horizon.  Did 
this  indicate  a  storm  ?  Both  of  the  boys  saw  it, 
but  did  not  care  to  say  any  thing  about  it.  They 
pulled  in  silence. 

But  where  was  the  Andromeda  f  It  was  on 
the  sea,  and  Captain  Granby  was  wondering 
where  the  boys  were.  After  they  had  left, 
he  was  busy  in  the  cabin  working  out  an  esti- 
mate of  the  financial  results  of  this  trip  to  the 


252  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

whaling  grounds  of  the  South  Seas,  soon  to  be 
abandoned.  Steve  Wyckham  was  up  in  the 
rigging  on  the  look-out. 

"Keep  out  an  eye  for  those  boys!  Watch 
sharp  !  "  said  Captain  Granby  to  Steve.  He 
also  gave  an  order  that  the  vessel  should  con- 
tinue to  "lie  to." 

"  I  was  a  fool  to  let  those  jackanapes  go  off," 
he  reflected,  as  he  turned  into  his  cabin.  He 
was  so  much  engrossed  in  dollars  and  cents  that 
he  gave  no  more  heed  to  that  fraction  of  his 
crew  off  in  a  boat,  and  remained  in  his  cabin 
longer  than  he  intended.  When  he  came  on 
deck  again,  he  noticed  that  the  sun  was  on  the 
edge  of  the  sea.  He  looked  up  into  the  rigging 
and,  climbing  a  short  distance,  asked : 

"Those  two  fools  comin'  back  in  that  boat? 
Do  you  see  'em,  Steve  ? " 

At  the  same  time  that  he  asked  this  question, 
Horace  Haviland  was  finishing  a  remark  he  had 
begun  to  make  to  Steve.  The  two  sailors  were 
not  far  apart  in  the  rigging,  Horace  at  work 
on  a  rope  that  needed  readjustment. 

"  Those  young  chaps  ought  to  be  back  by  this 
time,"  said  Horace.  "  They  can  row  quite  well, 
can't  they  ? " 


ADRIFT.  253 

"  Do  you  see  'em  ? "  said  Captain  Granby. 

Instead  of  saying,  "  No,  sir,"  to  the  captain, 
and  then  giving  the  affirmative  answer  to  Hor- 
ace, "I  think  so,"  he  simply  made  this  last 
reply. 

Captain  Granby  could  not  hear  very  distinctly, 
but  interpreted  Steve's  reply  as  one  made  to 
him,  and  as  a  favorable  reply  also.  To  make 
sure  that  he  was  right,  the  captain  added,  "  Can't 
seem  to  make  out  that  boat,  but  if  you  say  you 
see  them,  all  right." 

Steve  made  no  answer.  The  captain,  not 
catching  any  objection  to  his  opinion,  de- 
scended to  the  deck  and  went  into  the  cabin 
again,  repeating  his  orders  that  the  vessel 
should  lie  to. 

The  rope  that  Horace  was  at  work  upon  gave 
him  much  trouble.  He  took  out  his  sheath- 
knife  to  cut  away  a  ragged  end,  but,  as  the  end 
was  not  quite  ready  for  amputation,  he  thrust 
his  knife  into  the  sailor's  ready  vise — his  teeth. 
He  did  not  pay  close  attention  to  Steve's  words, 
and  as  he  had  applied  a  voluntary  gag  to  his 
mouth,  he  was  not  in  a  condition  to  make 
remarks. 

"  The  look-out  will  see  after  that  boat.     It  is 


254  SAILOR  BOY  BOB. 

Steve's  business,"  thought  Horace,  bending 
down  closely  to  his  perplexing  rope. 

"  There  !  "  he  finally  ejaculated.  "  That  job 
is  done !  " 

Trimming  the  rope's  end  he  thrust  his  knife 
into  its  sheath,  and  then,  looking  off  upon  the 
sea  hastily,  muttered,  "  Steve  is  looking  after 
'em.-'  He  swung  over  into  the  shrouds  and  ran 
quickly  down  to  the  deck.  He  went  to  the  fore- 
castle for  a  short  time,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  and 
then,  mounting  to  the  deck  again,  he  met  Cap- 
tain Granby. 

"  Boys  back,  I  s'pose,  cap'n  ? "  said  Horace, 
looking  round  for  Ralph  and  Bob. 

"N-n-no!"  replied  the  captain  impatiently. 
"Don't  see  where  they  are.  I  thought  that 
Steve  told  me  he  could  see  them." 

"I  heard  you  say  something  and  s'posed  it 
was  all  right.  My  hands  and  mouth  were  full, 
for  I  had  a  bad  job.  Steve — " 

"  I'll  rouse  that  dumb  booby  up  in  the  rig- 
ging. Say  !  "  he  shouted,  looking  aloft.  "  Say,' 
Steve  !  Do  you  see  those  two  fools  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  see  when  it  is  gettin'  dark  ? " 
replied  Steve. 

"  Answer,  yes  or  no  !  " 


ADRIFT.  255 

"  No -o-o  !  "  thundered  Steve. 

"  You  may  add  4  sir.'  " 

" No,  sir"  was  the  hesitating,  sulky  reply. 

"  Now  you  may  come  down  and  go  below. 
I'll  have  a  man  up  there  who  can  see  some- 
thing," angrily  yelled  the  captain. 

"I  can't  see  when  there  is  nothing  to  be 
seen,"  growled  Steve. 

"  You  don't  want  to  see.  That  is  what  the 
matter  is  with  you,"  replied  the  captain,  justly 
suspecting  Steve's  sincerity.  "  This  not  keep- 
ing an  eye  out  sharp  for  a  couple  of  youngsters 
isn't  the  thing." 

Those  of  the  crew  now  on  deck  gathered  about 
the  captain  and  Steve,  and  then  they  opened 
ranks  to  let  Steve,  whose  sullen  face  was  black- 
ening with  wrath,  pass  to  his  retreat  in  the  fore- 
castle. The  affair  occasioned  much  excitement 
among  the  crew,  and  the  very  just  feeling  was 
that  Steve  had  not  properly  watched  the  boys 
and  faithfully  reported  to  the  captain. 

"  He'd  be  willing  to  have  Bob  drift  away  and 
never  come  back,"  said  some  one  of  the  crew 
whose  face  Captain  Granby  could  not  see. 

"  I'll  teach  him  what  is  a  look-out's  duty," 
said  the  captain,  peering  over  the  vessel's  rail 


256  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

into  the  shadows  that  crouched  dark  ai}d  heavy 
upon  the  waters.  He  directed  that  all  the  can- 
vas should  be  gathered  in,  and  that  the  An- 
dromeda should  "  lie  to  through  the*  night." 

"  We'll  stay  right  here,  if  we  can,  jest  where 
we  are,"  said  the  captain.  "  In  the  mornin'  we 
may  pick  'em  up." 

And  the  boys  ?  They  were  not  pulling  now, 
but  in  the  deepening  twilight  were  looking  in 
every  direction  for  the  much  wanted  Androm- 
eda. 

"  I  did  wish,"  said  Bob,  trying  to  speak  in  as 
brave  tones  as  possible — "  I  did  wish,  the  other 
day,  when  we  were  working  so  hard,  that  I 
might  not  see  any  try-works  again  for  a  century. 
I  wish  now  they  were  at  the  mast-head  of  the 
Andromeda,  blazing  away  furiously.  Then  we 
should  have  a  light  to  guide  us." 

"  What  I  am  afraid  of,  Bob,  is  that  a  mist  is 
coming  up,  and  it  has  hidden  the  ship  and  will 
hide  any  lights." 

Ralph  was  right.  Captain  Granby  hung 
lights  in  the  rigging  of  the  Andromeda  as  if 
for  an  illumination  in  honor  of  a  good  whaling 
voyage,  but  a  mist  veiled  them. 

"  What  shall  we  do,  Bob  ?" 


ADRIFT.  257 

"  Do  ..nothing.  Wish  we  had  taken  a  com- 
pass. Ought  to  have  been  one  in  this  boat,  but, 
for  some  reason,  somebody  took  it  out  yester- 
day. We  can  do  nothing  now." 

"  You  mean  not  to  row  at  all  ?  " 

"  That's  it ;  we  don't  know  which  way  to 
row,  and  seems  to  me  we  had  better  stir  from 
this  place  as  little  way  as  possible.  I  don't  be- 
lieve the  Andromeda  will  leave  us.  She  will 
cruise  round  for  us  in  the  morning,  and  we  don't 
want  to  be  far  from  the  place  where  she  left  us. 
She  will  find  us." 

"  O,  yes !  No  doubt  about  that,"  declared 
Ralph,  in  as  courageous  tones  as  possible.  "  I'm 
hungry,  thirsty,  too.  Wonder  if  there  is  any 
water  in  our  keg." 

"  O,  yes,  I  imagine  so." 

There  was  a  water-keg  in  the  boat,  and  Ralph 
lifted  it  and  tasted  it  at  the  bung-hole. 

"  Quite  good,  Bob  !     Have  some  ?  " 

"  Thank  you.  I'll  have  a  swig  to  keep  up  my 
courage,  you  know.  And  here  are  some  crack- 
ers in  this  box." 

"  Good  ! " 

"  O,  we  will  live  like  princes." 

The  boys  talked  awhile,  and  then  Ralph  asked, 
17 


258  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Now,  Bob,  shall  we  both  watch  ?    Shall—" 

"  Guess  we  both  won't  sleep.  Let's  keep 
awake !  I  can't  go  to  sleep  in  this  old  boat." 

Ralph  assented,  but  a  tired  body  is  a  heavy 
drag  upon  all  purposes  of  wakefulness,  and  both 
the  voyagers  began  to  yawn. 

"  Bob,  we  have  got  to  give  in.  I'll  watch,  and 
you  sleep." 

"  No,  you  turn  in,  or  turn  down,  and  I'll  keep 
my  eyes  open.  I  will  wake  you  up." 

Bob  generally  had  his  way  in  any  of  the  out- 
door ventures  that  the  boys  prosecuted,  his 
strength  and  energy  being  superior,  and  Ralph 
agreed  to  "  turn  in."  This  meant  to  make  him- 
self comfortable  on  the  bottom  of  the  boat  in 
the  dryest  place  lie  could  find.  Bob  noticed 
that  Ralph  was  silent  before  lying  down.  He 
knew  Ralph's  habits  thoroughly,  and  he  said  to 
himself,  "  Ralph  is  saying  his  prayers.  He 
wouldn't  miss  those  for  any  thing." 

No  sooner  had  this  thought  flashed  through 
Bob's  mind  than  another  followed  it — "  Why 
don't  you  pray  ? " 

Rough  and  careless  as  a  ship-life  is,  Bob  had 
come  every  day  under  the  influence  of  Ralph  so 
fully  that  it  had  not  been  lost  upon  him.  He 


ADRIFT.  259 

had  done  at  sea  what  he  had  not  been  accustomed 
to  do  at  home — he  had  read  his  Bible.  The 
"  Sunday  singing "  had  done  its  quiet  work. 
The  thoughts  in  the  hymns  were  like  the  silent 
dropping  of  seed  in  his  heart.  Seed  will  lie  in 
the  ground  unsuspected  until,  under  the  stimu- 
lus of  some  day  of  unusual  sunshine  or  fall  of 
gracious  rain,  there  is  a  sudden  opening  of  the 
coats  imprisoning  the  shoot,  and  up  comes  the 
welcome  growth. 

That  night  Bob  did  some  serious  thinking. 
"How  quietly  Ralph  is  sleeping,"  he  said. 
"Awful  lonely  place  here ! "  He  looked  up  into 
the  heavens.  There  was  a  thin  veil  of  mist 
thrown  over  the  sky,  and  through  it  the  stars 
were  trying  to  shine.  He  looked  where  he  sup- 
posed the  sea  wras,  and  there  nothing  could  be 
discovered.  Only  a  great,  black  emptiness ! 
"  No — something  is  there ! "  thought  Bob,  reach- 
ing his  hand  over  the  boat's  side  and  touching 
the  water.  It  was  a  relief  to  feel  the  water. 
As  if  to  assure  Bob  that  something  was  about 
him,  and  not  a  great,  awful  vacuum,  the  water 
softly  beat  against  the  sides  of  the  boat  and 
played  about  his  hand. 

"  Off  in  the  Pacific — I  don't  know  where — 


260  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

makes  you  nervous  !  What  makes  Ralph  sleep 
so  ? "  thought  Bob.  "  He  prays  and  goes  to 
sleep.  It  seems  to  quiet  him." 

Then  this  thought  flashed  through  his  soul : 
"  Why  shouldn't  you  pray  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  don't,  I  am  sure," 
-said  Bob.  "Would  God  hear  me  ?  Where 
is  he?" 

And  then  there  seemed  to  be  aroused  in  Bob's 
soul  a  desire,  a  craving,  a  hunger,  for  sympathy, 
companionship,  love.  In  the  night,  away  off  on 
the  ocean,  alone,  his  companion  asleep,  in  that 
gently  rocking  boat,  the  darkness  disclosing  noth- 
ing save  a  few,  far-away,  faint  stars,  Bob  Walker 
had  this  desire  aroused  within  him.  And  then 
came  one.  of  the  Sunday  hymns  to  his  memory. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  could  hear  Ralph's  clear 
treble,  Roaring  Ben's  deep  bass,  the  sweet, 
musical  tenor  of  "  the  old  man,"  John  Wilson, 
while  "Yolcano"  sang  a  low,  plaintive  alto. 
And  these  were  the  words  wafted  on  the  wings 
of  that  remembered  harmony : 

"  Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  nearer  waters  roll, 

While  the  tempest  still  is  high  I 


ADKIFT.  261 

Hide  me.  0  my  Saviour,  hide,     • 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past; 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide, 

0  receive  my  soul  at  last." 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  murmured  Bob.  "  Now  or 
never." 

Down  lie  dropped  upon  his  knees  and  turned 
his  face  up  toward  the  great,  lonely  sky.  "What 
he  said,  he  never  could  recall.  He  hardly  knew 
what  he  did,  save  this  in  general — that  he  gave 
up  something — himself,  his  will;  he  received 
something — a  presence,  a  friend,  God,  his 
Saviour. 

Then  he  sat  in  silence  awhile,  looking  con- 
tentedly down.  At  last  he  looked  up.  During 
his  frequent  watches  on  the  deck  of  the  An- 
dromeda, at  night,  he  had  become  familiar  with 
that  beautiful  constellation — the  Southern  Cross. 
And  now  in  the  heaven,  still  veiled,  yet  thinly, 
he  could  trace  some  of  the  outlines  of  that  glo- 
rious group  of  stars. 

"  That  is  a  sign  of  hope,"  he  said. 

He  could  tell  from  its  position  what  time  it  was. 

"  My  watch  is  up ! "  he  said. 

Reaching  over  to  Ralph,  he  laid  his  hand 
gently  upon  him. 


262  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

"  He  sleeps  sound !  Too  bad  to  wake  him ! " 
said  Bob.  "  I'll  let  him  sleep  longer.  Hullo ! " 
he  suddenly  exclaimed.  "  This  boat  drifting  ? 
I — I  believe  it  is.  I — I  suspected  that." 

When  he  held  his  hand  down  in  the  water, 
there  seemed  to  be  a  movement  against  it.  He 
caught  the  sound  of  a  gentle  rushing.  This  he 
had  noticed  several  times.  And  what  dark  ob- 
ject was  it  ahead — or  wasn't  it  an  object  ?  It 
could  not  be  the  hull  of  the  Andromeda,  of 
course.  He  was  relieved  when  he  heard  Ralph 
stirring  in  the  boat.  Ralph  had  concluded  to 
wake  himself  up. 

"  Ugh !  Hullo ! "  he  said  nervously.  "  What 
is — this  ?  Where — are — we  ? " 

"  In  the  boat,  you  know." 

«  Oh-h-h !  " 

It  was  an  exclamation  of  disappointment. 

"  And  look,  Ralph !  You  see  this  black  thing 
ahead?" 

Ralph  rubbed  his  eyes,  thought  he  did  see 
something,  and  hoped  it  wasn't  a  rock. 

"  No,  but  that  old  wreck,  isn't  it  ? " 

"Hadn't  we  better  keep  off  from  it?  Might 
be  a  rock,  and  some  current  about  it." 

Bob  at  first  was  for  boldly  approaching  the 


ADRIFT.  263 

object,  but  Ralph's  more  prudent  counsel  pre- 
vailed. Nearing  this  mysterious  something  cau- 
tiously, Ralph  reached  out  an  oar  and  struck  it, 
while  Bob  kept  the  boat  off  with  another  oar. 

"  Bob,  it  is  wood  !  It  is  that  piece  of  wreck. 
Let  us  go  up  to  it." 

Bob  declared  it  was  like  meeting  an  old 
friend,  and,  as  they  lingered  about  it,  Ralph  pro- 
posed that  they  should  moor  the  boat  to  it  and 
wait  till  morning. 

"  All  right,  Ralph !  I  have  an  idea  that  this 
thing  is  aground,  for  she  doesn't  seem  to  be 
stirring.  Fact  is,  Ralph,  we  have  been  in  a 
current — " 

"  And  didn't  know  it !  That  is  so.  I  thought 
it  was  strange  we  did  not  get  ahead  faster  when 
we  were  trying  to  find  the  Andromeda.  The 
current  was  against  us,  and  when  we  stopped 
rowing  it  took  .us  back  where  the  wreck  was,  and 
I  guess  you  were  right.  This  piece  of  the  Cas- 
par got  aground,  and  we  caught  up  with  it." 

"  Got  aground,  Ralph  ?  Then  do  you  sup- 
pose we  are  near  that  island  we  saw  last  night  ? 
Hurrah!" 

The  enthusiastic  Bob  was  obliged  to  give  vent 
to  his  delight,  though  he  was  adrift  on  the 


264  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Pacific,  and  though  it  was  night,  and  though — 
but  what  was  it  the  boys  saw  off  in  the  lonely 
sky? 

"  It  isn't  daylight,  is  it,  Bob  ? "  asked 
Kalph. 

No,  it  was  too  soft  and  silvery,  and  yet  it  was 
light. 

'•  The  moon  ! "  cried  Ralph. 

"  Hurrah  ! "  shouted  Bob. 

It  was  not  a  brilliant  moon,  and  the  mist  that 
had  veiled  different  sections  of  the  sea  tried  to 
throw  a  screen  before  this  new,  soft  light. 
There  was  enough  illumination  to  bring  out  into 
form  the  wreck,  and — what  else  could  the  boys 
soon  trace  ? 

""  Ralph,  now  you  may  .say  what  you  please — " 

"  I  haven't  said  any  thing." 

"  You  hold  on,  and  what  will  you  say  to  this  ? 
Look  off  there !  That  sort  of  bank  is  the  island 
we  saw  last  night.  Yes,  sir !  Hur-rah  !  And 
hark !  What  do  you  hear  ? " 

"  Don't  hear  any  thing,  save  the  water  round 
the  wreck." 

"  Just  cast  that  rope  off,  and  pull  away  from 
it,  just  a  few  strokes." 

"O,  Bob!" 


ADRIFT.  265 

Ralph  was  afraid  that  Bob  would  leave  the 
certain  for  the  uncertain — the  wreck  for  an 
unknown  island. 

"  I'll  answer  for  consequences,"  replied  Bob, 
with  characteristic  decision  untying  the  rope, 
and  Ralph  as  usual  submitting. 

"  There  !  You  see  you  couldn't  hear  distinct- 
ly at  the  wreck,  but  I  have  caught  it  several 
times  during  the  night — a  sound  like  surf. 
Hark!" 

"  Yes,  I  hear  it," 

"  Now,  Ralph,  let  us  go  there,"  proposed  Bob, 
with  startling  energy.  "  Come  on,  Ralph ! 
Now  is  your  chance  to  see  something  of  the 
world.  Come  on ! " 

"Hold  on,  Bob,  hold  on!  Let  us  think  it 
over." 

"  Don't  want  to  think,  but  go.  You  see — you 
see—" 

"  But  the  Andromeda  f  " 

"  Would  find  us  just  as  quick  there.  You  see, 
we  could  build  a  fire  or  climb  a  tree,  and  throw 
out  a  flag — " 

"Flag?" 

"  "Well,  pants  or  shirt,  then." 

"  But,  savages !" 


266  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

That  was  what  Bob  needed  to  fire  him  up  to 
greater  zeal. 

"  O,  Ralph !  I  would  like  to  see  some  of  them. 
They  won't  hurt.  You  know  we  have  harpoons 
and  lances.  Besides,  we  can  push  off  in  the 
morning  before  they  are  up,  if  we  want  to.  Be- 
sides, Ralph,  what  if  a  storm  should  come !  We 
don't  want  to  be  off  here.  Get  on  shore,  where 
you  are  safe,  where  you  can  get  water,  where 
you  will  find  cocoanuts,  where — " 

"  Come  on,  Bob !     I'm  agreed." 

The  current  that  had  shifted  their  loca- 
tion during  the  night  helped  them  now,  for 
they  made  a  swift  advance.  At  times  they 
stopped  and  caught  the  musical  sound  of  surf, 
not  angry,  but  hushed  ;  not  the  rough,  loud  drum- 
beat of  the  storm,  but  the  play  of  the  water  in 
fair  weather.  Still,  a  storm  might  come,  and  it 
was  much  more  agreeable,  Ralph  thought,  to  go 
ashore  now,  easily  and  voluntarily, -than  to  be 
hurled  there  in  a  tempest. 

"  You  see,"  said  Bob,  as  the  two  pulled  stout- 
ly away,  "  there  is  that  current  off  there  we  got 
into,  and  if  we  had  held  on  and  a  storm  broken 
on  us,  we  might  have  come  ashore  in  a  style  we 
didn't  like.  Getting  'most  there  rf " 


ADRIFT.  267 

"Almost.  Bob!" 

The  trees  on  the  island  rose  up  in  a  dark, 
shadowy  wall,  but  nearer,  nearer,  and  the  surf 
sounded  louder. 

"  Here  we  are,  Bob ! "  shouted  Ealph.  "  Got 
to  the  shore-waves !  Steady  ! " 

"  Steady  it  is !     Here  we  are  ! " 

Up  and  down,  up  and  down,  in  the  gentle 
cradle  of  the  surf,  rocked  the  boat,  and  soon 
was  safely  beached.  The  last  of  the  surf  in- 
closed the  boat  in  a  net- work  of  molten  silver, 
flashing  in  the  white  light  of  the  moon. 

"  Ship  oars ! "  Ralph  had  shouted. 

The  two  boys  sprang  out  and,  pulling  the  boat 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  low  waves,  went  up  the 
sands  still  higher  and  sat  down  in  the  edge  of 
a  grove. 

"  Ha-ha,  Bob !     Isn't  this  romantic  ? " 

"  Yes,  Ralph  ;  and  we  are  safe,  too.  It  is 
good  to  feel  that  you  are  safe  on  land.  Good  to 
have  a  foundation  under  you.  Now  we  know 
where  we  are — in  one  sense." 

"  Wonder  what  they  are  doing  on  board  the 
Andromeda,  Bob  ? " 

"  I  wonder !  Well,  we  are  safe.  You  see, 
Ralph,"  said  Bob,  looking  up  to  the  branchts  of 


268  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

the  trees  overhead,  "  I  suppose  these  are  cocoa- 
nut-trees,  and  we  have  all  the  fruit  we  want. 
Can't  starve,  you  know." 

"  They  say  the  cocoanut  palm  is  invaluable, 
Bob.  It  will  supply  posts  and  walls  for  a  house 
— and,  you  know,  we  have  a  hatchet  to  cut  trees 
down  with — and  then  the  cocoanut  palm  gives 
you  materials  for  thatching  and  for  mats — " 

"  Can  carpet  our  floors,  Ralph,  and  when  oui 
clothes  give  out  we  can  weave  a  new  suit.  You 
would  make  a  good  tailor,  I  know.  Ha-ha ! " 

The  boys,  sitting  under  the  branches  of  the 
trees,  looking  off  upon  the  gentle  throw  of 
silver-like  surf  in  the  moonlight,  laughed  at  the 
thought  that  they  were  about  to  turn  into  car- 
penters and  tailors. 

"  You  can  get  oil,  Bob,  out  of  the  cocoanut, 
so  that  we  are  sure  of  a  light  by  night.  There 
is  our  lantern  in  the  boat,  and  we  can  fill  that 
with  cocoanut  oil  when  it  is  empty.  We  can 
compete  with  the  sperm  oil  factories." 

The  boys  laughed  again  to  think  that  they 
were  to  become  oil-makers ! 

"  You  know,  Bob,  they  make  rope  out  of  the 
fiber  in  the  old  stems.  We  shall  have  to  build 
a  rope-walk  at  once." 


ADRIFT.  269 

"  Lucky !  Who  would  go  back  to  the  An- 
dromeda?" 

The  boys  sat  under  the  trees  joking  and 
laughing,  planning  how  to  live  in  the  kingdom 
of 'the  cocoanut-tree,  a  small  section  of  which 
they  had  invaded.  Gradually,  the  languor  of 
needed  sleep  stole  over  them  and  made  them 
drowsy.  They  nodded  their  heads,  bowed  lower, 
and  at  last  they  both  sank  into  the  depths  of  a 
grateful  slumber.  It  was  Ralph  who,  in  his 
dreams,  thought  with  alarm  of  one  object  that 
in  their  plans  for  the  future  had  not  been  men- 
tioned. What  was  that  object?  In  his  turn 
Bob  was  dreaming  of  a  life  with  Kalph  in  a 
palm  log-hut,  saying  to  himself  how  strange, 
after  his  readings  about  Robinson  Crusoe  and 
Swiss  Family  Robinson,  to  think  that  he  him- 
self was  to  have  such  an  exceptional,  fascinating 
experience.  He  was  meditating  upon  a  name 
for  a  possible  book,  The  Two  Castaways,  or 
Thrown  Upon  a  Desert  Island,  when  all  these 
thoughts  were  routed  by  a  scream  from  Ralph. 
This  other  dreamer  fancied  he  felt  the  touch  of 
a  man's  hand,  an  awful  touch  that  started  on  the 
forehead,  proceeded  to  the  nose,  diverged  to 
each  cheek,  and — it  was  the  touch  of  a  savage ! 


2YO  SAILOB-BOY  BOB. 

"  Ugh  !  "  screamed  Ralph,  springing  up,  only 
to  find  that  the  invader  of  his  seclusion  had  been 
the  long  leaf  of  a  shrub  under  which  he  had 
rolled  in  his  uneasy  sleep.  The  movement  of 
the  leaf  in  the  early  morning  breeze  explained 
that  horrible  savage  touch.  Bob  was  now  awake 
also. 

"  That  ugly  savage ! "  exclaimed  Ealph,  rub- 
bing his  eyes  open. 

"  Where  ? "  said  Bob  looking  round. 

He  rose  upon  his  feet,  and,  in  the  strong  light 
of  the  new  day  flooding  the  sea,  looked  off. 
Did  he  see  an  aborigine,  a  cannibal,  say  ? 

"  Hurrali !     That  is — not — your  savage ! " 

He  stood  pointing  off  the  shore,  and  there, 
calmly  floating,  was  the — Andromeda  !  The 
sight  of  the  old  whaler,  with  the  big  blocks  at 
the  mast-head,  was  so  fascinating !  Those  dark 
blocks  looked  handsomer  than  any  jewel.  Fare- 
well to  the  fascinations  of  a  Juan  Fernandez  life ! 
The  boys  seized  their  boat,  rushed  it  into  the 
surf,  and  began  to  pull  for  their  old  friend.  Up, 
down,  up,  down,  beyond  the  sweep  of  the  shore- 
waves  at  last  glided  the  boat  of  the  young  whale- 
men, forsaking  all  those  tempting  objects — the 
log-hut,  rope-walk,  and  cocoanut-oil  factory. 


ADEIFT.  271 

"Do  they  see  us?"  anxiously  asked  Ralph, 
turning  his  head  round  when  they  had  rowed  a 
little  while. 

"  Can't  say,  Ealph,  but — yes,  yes !  They  see 
us!  I  can  see  them  looking  over  the  vessel's 
rail— and  they  are  waving  their  hands — and, 
yes,  somebody  is  up  in  the  rigging,  waving,  I 
believe." 

"Let  us  stand  up  and  give  three  cheers, 
Bob !  Come  on ! " 

The  cheers  of  the  boys  as  they  stood  up  in 
the  boat,  echoed  over  the  water,  and  from  the 
Andromeda  came  an  answering  and  bigger  shout 
of  welcome. 

"  Here  is  the  wreck  again,  Bob !  Grounded 
on  some  reef !  We  must  not  let  the  Andromeda 
come  any  nearer.  She  is  in  that  current,  I  am 
afraid." 

"  She  will  be  all  right,  Ralph !  She  is  mov- 
ing off  to  the  left  there,  and  I  don't  know  but 
that  she  is  going  to  drop  anchor." 

The  rattle  of  the  Andromeda's  cable  was 
heard  as  her  anchor  sank  into  the  water. 

"  Soon  there,  Bob  !     Row,  row ! " 

"  Spring  for  it,  Ralph  2  " 

Encouraging    one    another,  the  boys  quick- 


272  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

ened  their  efforts  as  if  a  canoe  load  of  savages 
were  after  them,  and  were  soon  alongside  the 
whaler. 

""Hullo,  Bob!"  "How  are  ye,  Ralph?" 
^'  Aboard  with  you  1 "  "  Home  again ! "  "  How 
do  you  like  life  on  an  island  ? "  were  among  the 
greetings  that  the  boys  received. 

Captain  Granby,  Roaring  Ben,  Horace  H*avi- 
land,  'Rastus  the  cook,  "  the  old  man,"  "  Yol- 
cano  " — every  body,  it  seemed,  excepting  Steve 
Wyckham — were  all  on  hand  to  receive  Ralph 
and  Bob  as  they  climbed  over  the  vessel's 
rail. 

It  was  so  good  to  get  back  to  the  old  craft,  to 
the  greasy  decks,  even,  and  the  very  try-pots ! 
The  Andromeda  soon  weighed  anchor,  and 
opened  her  canvas  wings  to  catch  a  breeze  fresh- 
ening above  the  waters.  Bob  and  Ralph  leaned 
over  the  vessel's  rail  and  watched  the  receding 
wreck  and  island. 

"  There  goes  the  Caspar.  Bob !     Good-bye ! " 

"  Ralph,  the  island  is  growing  smaller !  Good- 
bye!" 

"  Yes,  farewell  to  that  valuable  tree,  the  cocoa- 
nut  palm,  waving  beautifully  in  a  South  Sea 
wind!" 


ADRIFT.  273 

"  Yes,  and  to  our  house  of  palm-logs ! " 

"  And  the  palm-leaf  matting  for  the  floors ! " 

"  And  to  our  fashionable  palm-leaf  suits ! " 

"And  to  the  beautiful  —  savage  who  woke 
me  up ! " 

"  I  began  to  think  of  writing  a  book,  and  didn't 
know  as  I  would  change  places  with  the  happiest 
man  in  Oldburyport ! " 

"  Good-bye,  Caspar  !  " 

"  Good-bye,  island-home !  " 

What  was  left  of  the  Caspar  subsided  to  the 
level  of  the  ocean,  and  then  melted  away  amid 
its  foam.  The  palm-trees  on  the  island  lowered 
their  proud  heads,  bowed  down  to  the  level  of 
the  wave-tops,  and  so  sank  out  of  sight. 

One  of  the  results  of  a  rough  experience  is  to 
lead  us  to  appreciate  the  daily  line  of  comforts 
which  we  may  have  despised  and  constantly  de- 
preciated as  humble  and  hard.  What  soft  cush- 
ions they  are  when  we  get  back  to  them ! 

In  his  berth,  that  night,  Ralph  leaned  for- 
ward and,  looking  out,  said  to  Bob,  his  next 
neighbor, 

"  I  didn't  know  this  old  bunk  could  seem  so 
precious.  I  sha'n't  have  any  fear  of  savages  or 

storms.     Good-night  1 " 
18 


274  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

"  Good  night !  Fearful  sleepy !  I've — got 
home ! " 

That  night,  Bob  had  done  something  strange 
for  him.  He  had  got  down  by  his  bunk  and 
thought  gratefully  of  God.  Both  the  boys  in 
their  sleep  dreamed  of  home. 

For  Oldburyport,  the  Andromeda  soon 
spread  its  wings. 


A  WONDERFUL  MEETING.  275 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

• 

A  WONDERFUL   MEETING. 

IT  was  Sunday  afternoon  in  the  old  forecastle. 
A  rough  place  it  was,  and  the  hard  usage  of 
a  whaling  voyage  had  told  on  the  floor  and  also 
the  bunks,  that  had  begun  the  voyage  in  a  coin- 
mentlable  state  of  neatness.  The  "chaplain" 
was  singing  with  the  sailors  who  chose  to  gather 
at  this  time.  Some  of  them  were  seated  on 
several  battered  chests,  and,  leaning  over  the 
old,  well-thnrnbed  books,  were  roaring  out 
their  interest  in  the  exercises  of  the  hour. 
There  were  three  seamen  carelessly  stretched 
out  in  their  bunks.  Their  posture  said,  "  If 
we  find  the  singing  tiresome,  we  can  try  to 
sleep." 

The  chaplain  had  given  out  several  hymns 
whose  sentiment  strongly  appealed  to  any  sea- 
rnan,  the  waves  seeming  to  rock  in  the  sentences, 
and  when  a  storrn  was  described,  in  the  notes 
of  the  singers  was  developed  a  corresponding 
energy.  Bob  sang  as  intensely  as  any  body. 


276  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

"  "We  will  try  now  something  different,"  finally 
said  the  chaplain.  "  Try  the  hymn, 

"  '  Jesus,  and  shall  it  ever  be, 

A  mortal  man  ashamed  of  thee  ?  '  " 

• 

It  was  a  long  meter  tune,  moving  slowly,  with 
dignity,  and  there  was  a  certain  plaintive  qual- 
ity to  the  melody  in  harmony  with  the  tender, 
almost  tearful,  appeals  in  the  sentiment.  Bob 
soon  found  that  the  hymn  and  the  air  were 
strangely,  strongly  moving  him.  There  would 
not  have  been  this  effect  in  euch  a  marked  de- 
gree had  not  an  incident  of  the  previous  day 
been  suggested.  Steve  Wyckham  had  been  in 
disgrace  after  the  affair  of  the  last  chapter.  Cap- 
tain Gran  by  had  publicly  reprimanded  him  and 
had  deprived  him  of  several  privileges. 

"  Couldn't  have  treated  me  wuss  if  he  had 
ironed  me!"  complained  Steve  to  another  sea- 
man. 

The  crew  abhorred  his  style  of  treating  ship- 
mates who  were  out  on  the  water*,  and  whose 
safety  depended  on  his  faithfulness  as  a  look-out. 
For  a  while,  Steve  was  sulkily  silent.  By  de- 
grees, though,  he  ventured  to  creep  out  of  this 
silence,  and  to  a  few  of  the  crew,  who  were  men 


A  WONDERFUL  MEETING.  277 

after  his  style  of  character,  he  would  express  his 
opinion.  He  was  one  of  a  group  that,  clustered 
in  the  vessel's  bows,  the  Saturday  before  this 
''  Sunday  singing,"  discussed  the  gatherings  in 
the  old  forecastle  Sunday  afternoons.  Very 
naturally  Bob  would  not  be  attracted  by  any 
such  group.  He  chanced  to  be  standing  near 
them,  and,  while  they  were  busily  talking,  he 
was  as  busily  coiling  a  rope,  and  with  all  the 
ready  skill  of  an  old  sailor.  He  could  hear 
every  thing  that  they  said. 

"  I  don't  think  so  much  of  this  psalm-singing," 
exclaimed  Dan  A  very. 

"  Nor  I."  replied  Bill  Tappan.  "  Folks  are 
awfnl  pious  sometimes,  when  they  git  into  a 
for'c'stle  and  roar  out  a  lot  of  goody  stuff." 

"  You  don't  ketch  'em  doin'  it  any  other  time," 
said  Dan.  "I  mean  their  piousness.  Don't 
show  that." 

"  Doiu'  it  any  other  time ! "  exclaimed  Steve. 
"You'd  never  know  how  they  felt  from  any 
thing  they  say  any  other  time.  They  act  as  if 
they  was  ashamed  to  stand  up  and  own  the 
society  they  belong  to.  When  folks  on  shore 
jine  a  society,  they're  tickled  to  put  on  their 
badge,  but  these  fellers  aint.  If  I  belonged,  I'd 


278  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

have  out  my  badge  and  clap  it  on  purty  quick. 
They're  ashamed." 

;c  That's  so ! "  You've  got  'em  there ! "  "  Hit 
the  mark  there  !  "  were  the  responses  to  this  ex- 
pression of  opinion. 

"Do  they  mean  me?"  thought  Bob,  as  he 
now  moved  away,  his  coil  of  rope  neatly  com- 
pleted. 

This  expression  of  opinion  by  Steve  and  the 
others  was  accidental.  It  had  no  reference  to 
Bob  on  the  part  of  those  uttering  the  opinion. 
They  did  not  even  know  be  had  been  there. 
When  they  turned  about  they  saw  a  very  neat 
coil  of  rope. 

"  Who  did  that  while  we  were  here  ? "  asked 
Steve. 

Nobody  knew. 

"  That's  a  good  coil,"  declared  Steve. 

The  words,  though,  which  Bob  had  heard  by 
chance  could  not  have  more  powerfully  stirred 
him  had  they  been  arrows  sent  by  an  intentional 
archer  aiming  at  Bob's  heart.  He  had  not 
spoken  to  any  one  about  the  night  of  his  expo- 
sure with  Ralph  out  upon  the  ocean,  when,  kneel- 
ing in  the  gently  swaying  boat,  he  looked  up 
and  besought  the  blessing  of  his  God.  He  had 


A  WONDERFUL  MEETING.  279 

not  told  this  to  Ralph  even.  It  was  not  a  lost 
experience  by  any  means,  and  therefore  uncon- 
fessed.  It  survived  the  excitement  of  that  nis-ht, 

O         * 

and  lasted  beyond  the  next  day.  He  kept  on 
praying.  He  was  conscious  that  there  was  a 
changed  purpose  in  his  life.  He  wondered  if  it 
was  what  people  called  "  conversion."  He 
doubted  it,  because  he  looked  for  something 
more  emotional.  In  that  case  he  expected  to 
feel  more  deeply  on  the  subject. 

"I  shall  certainly  be  happier  when  I  am 
converted,"  he  thought,  "  and  I  know  I  shall 
feel  I  am  a  bigger  sinner.  Don't  feel  now, 
for  some  reason,  but  I  suppose  I  shall.  How- 
ever, T  am  going  to  follow  this  thing  up. 
Perhaps  it  will  lead  to  conversion  if  I  do  follow 
it  up." 

If  Bob  had  analyzed  his  feelings,  it  would 
have  been  apparent  to  him  that  this  interest, 
whatever  it  was,  followed  Kim  up.  It  did  not 
leave  his  thoughts.  He  seemed  to  have  come 
into  a  new  relation  to  God,  and  he  thought  about 
him  as  one  ever  present  and  seeking  to  bring 
Bob  into  closer  communion  with  himself.  Bob 
seemed  also  to  have  come  into  a  new  relation  to 
his  ship-mates.  He  felt  that  he  ought  to  think 


SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

more  about  their  welfare  in  every  way ;  that  he 
ought  to  help  them  by  a  good  example  certainly. 
Toward  his  Bible  and  toward  prayer  he  seemed 
to  have  come  into  a  different  attitude — that  of 
interest  in  them  because  they  were  necessary  to 
him. 

"I  suppose  I  shall  take  still  more  interest  in 
this  book  when  I  am  converted,"  said  Bob, 
handling  his  Bible  one  day.  It  was  the  little 
volume  Carrie  had  given  him.  "However,  I 
like  to  look  at  it  as  it  is,  and  I  feel  that  I  ought, 
somehow.  Of  course,  if  God  is  a  Father  to  us, 
we  ought  to  read  the  book  telling  about  him. 
And  then  I  can't  seem  to  do  without  the  book. 
It  helps  me  stand  up,  and  comforts  me.  When 
I  am  converted,  I  suppose,  though,  my  liking 
for  the  book  will  be  nothing  like  what  it  is  now. 
It  will  go  beyond  any  thing  now." 

Bob  did  not  understand  the  nature  of  the  new 
life  upon  which  he  had  entered.  He  had  really 
crossed  the  dividing-line  between  the  old  life  of 
indifference  to  God  and  the  new  life  of  interest 
in  him  and  submission  to  him.  He  had  gone 
over  the  line  of  conversion  and  did  not  know  it. 
The  only  abiding  proofs  of  conversion  are  its 
fruits,  not  simply  in  our  feelings,  but  still  more 


A  WONDERFUL  MEETING.  281 

in  our  doings.  Bob  was  expecting  some  mar- 
velous change  whenever  conversion  came  He 
was  ignorant.  He  was  like  a  man  who,  in  the 
early  dawn  of  a  winter  morning,  steps  from  the 
sharp,  outside  cold  into  the  warm  summer-like 
air  of  a  hot-house.  He  can  feel  a  change,  hut, 
amid  the  shadows,  he  cannot  appreciate  it.  He 
can  see  growing  plants,  and  there  is  foliage.  He 
cannot  see  bud  or  flower.  He  only  says,  "  It  is 
warm  and  pleasant  here  in  this  hot-house."  Let 
him  wait,  though,  and  the  light  from  the  east 
will  pour  about  him,  and  bud  and  blossom  will 
be  seen.  Bob  was  inside  a  new  life,  but  it  was 
very  early  morning,  and  he  could  not  see  as  he 
certainly  would  in  later  days.  The  best  thing 
about  Bob's  experience,  simple  and  humble  as  it 
seemed,  was  that  it  showed  a  purpose  to  go  on, 
looking  to  God,  trusting  in  the  mercy  expressed 
in  Jesus  Christ,  trying  to  do  for  others  in  God's 
strength. 

"  I  am  going  to  stick  to  this  thing,"  declared 
Bob  in  his  heart. 

When  the  new  life  comes  to  us,  under  it  is 
this  root  of  a  good  purpose,  begotten  of  God,  to 
live  in  him  and  for  him.  If  Bob  could  have 
analyzed  his  feelings  he  would  have  noticed  also 


282  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

a  deepening  of  interest  in  the  little  group  who 
supported  the  Sunday  singing.  Within  that 
circle  he  felt  that  there  was  an  atmosphere  in 
sympathy  with  the  new  feelings  and  views  that 
had  come  to  him.  He  was  hardly  conscious  of 
the  stronger  attraction  that  that  simple  observ- 
ance of  Sunday  now  had  for  him. 

"  Sort  of  good  to  be  here.  Seems  like  home," 
silently  declared  Bob,  this  particular  Sunday 
afternoon  of  our  story.  That  rough,  soiled  fore- 
castle, the  old  bunks,  the  battered  chests,  were 
very  much  unlike  home,  but  the  unseen  spirit 
of  the  occasion,  like  the  unobserved  heat  of  a 
spring  day,  was  grateful  to  Bob,  and  it  made 
the  life  within  blossom  out  into  new  emotions. 
In  the  midst  of  all  this,  suddenly  Bob  recalled 
Steve's  words  about  the  Sunday  singers :  "  They 
act  as  if  they  was  ashamed  to  stand  up  and  own 
the  society  they  belong  to." 

While  this  was  echoing  in  his  memory,  in  his 
ears  sounded  the  strains  of  the  hymn,  which  had 
now  reached  this  stanza  : 

"  Ashamed  of  Jesus !    Sooner  far 
Let  evening  blush  to  own  a  star; 
He  sheds  the  beams  of  light  divine 
O'er  this  benighted  soul  of  mine." 


A  WONDERFUL  MEETING.  283 

Bob  was  deeply  stirred  by  the  hymn,  and  also 
by  the  question  whether  in  any  way  he  had 
given  Steve  or  others  a  reason  to  think  that 
he  was  ashamed  to  wear  openly  and  always  the 
badge  of  one  who  wanted,  at  least,  to  be  a 
Christian. 

"  If  I  am  not  ashamed,  why — why — not  speak 
now  of  what  I  want  to  do  ? "  thought  Bob. 

He  looked  about  him.  He  listened.  They 
were  singing  the  next  verse  : 

"  Ashamed  of  Jesus !  that  dear  Friend 
On  whom  my  hopes  of  heaven  depend  I 
No ;  when  I  blush  be  this  my  shame, 
That  I  no  more  revere  his  name." 

It  seemed  to  Bob  as  if  he  could  not  wait  until 
the  hymn  had  been  concluded.  There  was  the 
swelling  of  a  strange  desire  within  him  to  rise, 
to  open  his  mouth,  and  somehow  say  to  others 
emphatically  that  he  meant  to  follow  Christ. 
The  opportunity  came  at  last. .  The  final  couplet 
had  j  ust  been  closed  : 

"  And  0,  may  this  my  glory  be, 
That  Christ  is  not  ashamed  of  me  I  " 

Bob  was  upon  his  feet  at  once.  In  his  excite- 
ment it  seemed  as  if  he  threw  himself  back  and 


284:  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

stood  up  straighter  than  ever ;  his  fine,  muscular 
form  showing  its  manly  proportions.  His  dark 
eyes  flashed  in  his  earnestness.  His  hair,  that 
curled  above  his  brow,  revealed  while  it  half 
concealed  the  symmetrical  build  of  the  forehead. 
He  began  : 

"I  don't  know  but  that  you  will  be  sur- 
prised— " 

He  hesitated.  His  auditors  certainly  were 
startled,  and  they  looked  up  to  see  what  Bob 
would  say  next. 

"  But  I  wanted — to  let  you  know  where  I — 
stood.  I  am  trying  to  be  a  Christian.  I  can't 
say  that  I  have  much  success.  However,  I  am 
not  ashamed  of  Jesus,  and  I  mean  to  put  his 
badge  on  and  wear  it.  Yes,  I  will." 

Down  lie  sat.  It  was  done  in  Bob's  quick, 
impulsive  way,  decidedly ;  and  in  the  tone  of  a 
proclamation  to  the  world  that  he  was  not  at  all 
ashamed  of  Him  whom  he  acknowledged  as  his 
Friend.  Ralph  looked  at  Bob  in  delight.  He 
was  prepared  and  he  was  not  prepared  for  it. 
He  had  prayed  for  Bob  that  he  might  come 
into  the  light  of  God's  love  and  service,  and  if 
we  believe  in  prayer  we  ought  not  to  be  sur- 
prised when  our  prayers  are  answered.  He  had 


A  WONDERFUL  MEETING.  285 

seen  Bob's  interest  in  his  Bible  and  in  the 
Sunday  singing,  and  he  had  felt  that  Bob's  sym- 
pathies were  all  on  the  right  side.  Still,  noth- 
ing like  this  had  been  ever  declared  by  Bob,  and 
his  words  that  day  came  with  unanticipated 
force.  Ralph  could  not  seem  to  find  a  ready 
answer,  and  he  just  looked  his  pleasure.  Because 
Ralph  was  silent,  there  was  no  awkward  pause 
in  the  meeting.  Wilson,  "the  old  man,"  rose 
at  once  from  the  battered  old  chest  he  occupied, 
and  said  it  did  him  good  to  hear  his  young 
brother,  and  he  would  promise  to  stand  by  him, 
and  he  hoped  they  all  would  not  be  ashamed  to 
stand  up  for  Jesus.  There  was  now  developed 
an  atmosphere  of  interest  in  which  the  hard 
thing  was  not  to  speak,  but  to  keep  still.  The 
shipmate  whose  name  once  was  only  "  Volcano  " 
now  arose. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  "  you  all  know  where 
Rufus  Ring  stands,  but  I  sort  of  like  to  say  it. 
I  got  hold  of  a  Friend  when  I  began  to  pray.  I 
would  like  to  say  it,  but  I  don't  want  to  stop 
with  the  saying,  for  I  mean  to  do  it.  Count  me 
in  as  wearin'  that  badge  Bob  told  of." 

He  paused. 

"  You  know  what  I  once  was.     I  can  recom- 


286  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

mend  the  religion  of  Jesus.  It  took  all  the 
swear  out  of  me." 

The  chaplain  was  moved  to  offer  his  testi- 
mony, and  then  who  would  follow  Lira  ?  It 
seemed  as  if  the  stock  of  remarks  must  be  ex- 
hausted, but  any  close  observer  would  have 
noticed  that  Horace  Haviland's  hands  and  feet 
were  working  nervously,  and  his  face  was  flushed, 
and  several  times  he  cleared  his  throat  as  if 
about  to  speak.  Up  he  sprang  finally,  and 
in  an  embarrassed  but  sincere,  earnest  way, 
exclaimed, 

"  I  don't  suppose — you  were  expecting — me 
to  say — any  thing,  but  I  really  would — like  to 
say  a  word.  I — I — know — I  am  weak  before 
a  glass  of  liquor.  If  I  could  get  it  behind 
me!  But  I  see  you,  shipmates,  talking  this 
way — that — saying  that  religion  will  take  the 
swear  out  of  a  man,  and  why  wont  it — take  the 
liquor?  That's  what  I  want  to  know.  I  am 
going  home.  I  shall  meet  temptation.  Aint 
there  any  help  ? " 

"  Pray,  pray  ! "  said  two  of  his  auditors. 

"  If  I  thought — "  replied  Horace. 

"  Try  it !  "  cried  Bob. 

"  Yes ! "  urged  the  chaplain. 


A  WONDERFUL  MEETING.  287 

"  I  will ! "  said  Horace  decidedly,  and  down 
he  sat. 

"  Let  us  try  to  pray !  "  said  the  chaplain. 

There  in  the  old  forecastle  a  circle  of  petition- 
ers was  formed.  It  was  formed  on  a  good  foun- 
dation, their  knees,  but  their  souls  touched  a 
lower  place — the  foot  of  the  cross  ;  and  tftere  they 
cried  to  God.  Short  cries,  and  sent  out  of  ear- 
nest hearts.  Bob  prayed.  When  he  had  fin- 
ished he  nudged  Horace,  and  whispered, 

"  You  pray  !  " 

Horace  did  say  something,  but  what  it  was 
he  could  never  afterward  recall.  It  was  very 
much  like  a  famous  old  prayer  our  Saviour  told 
about — short  and  humble  and  very  penitent — 
the  publican's  prayer. 

When  the  little  meeting  broke  up  they  looked 
at  one  another  in  a  glad  surprise,  and  the  lan- 
guage of  the  look  was,  "  It  is  a  wonderful  meet- 
ing!" 

It  was  indeed  a  wonderful  meeting.  Other 
Sunday  afternoons  came,  and  brought  gather- 
ings of  much  interest,  but  none  were  like  that 
meeting.  The  cloud  seemed  to  gather  and 
break  and  the  rain  pour  down  at  that  meeting, 
and  into  the  hearts  of  two  especially,  Bob  and 


288  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Horace,  ran  the  strengthening  waters  of  a  new 
life. 

Whether  it  was  rain  to  deeply  penetrate  one's 
spiritual  being  and  abide  there,  or  the  hasty 
surf  ace -flow  of  a  transient  experience,  we 
shall  see. 


A  SAIL  !  A  SAIL  !  289 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

A  SAIL!  A  SAIL! 

"T  DON'T  see  where   the  Andromeda  is," 

-L  said  Sardinius  Walker,  who  would,  several 
times  a  day,  climb  the  garret  stairs  and,  from 
the  window  facing  the  sea,  look  off  for  some 
sign  of  the  whaler. 

As  invariably  as  he  went  up  hoping,  he  came 
down  disappointed.  Each  time,  too,  his  walk 
was  feebler.  One  morning,  he  said : 

"  Daughter,  I  think — I  think — I  wont  go  up 
to  look  off  to-day." 

"You  feel  sick,  father?"  asked  Alma  solic- 
itously. 

"  O,  no !     Only  more  tired,  you  know." 

Alma  was  not  satisfied  to  drop  the  matter 
here.  She  consulted  Dr.  Bates,  the  family 
physician.  . 

"  Well,  Alma,  I  will  tell  you  what,"  said  the 
doctor  in  an  authoritative  tone.  "  Your  father 
is  losing  vitality — growing  indifferent,  you  know; 

weak — and  he  needs  to  be  aroused  into  interest 
19 


290  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

— into  activity.  He  needs  a  good,  healthful,  gal- 
vanic shock  from  some  source,  so  to  speak. 
Now,  if  a  certain  big  sailor-boy  that  I  know  of 
should  come  from  sea,  healthy  and  strong  and 
vitalizing,  I  think  it  would  start  him — your 
father,  I  mean — into  a  more  healthy  condition ; 
wake  him  up,  you  know.  It  is  a  case  of  will 
acting  on  will,  also  of  a  physical  nature  abound- 
ing in  vitality  and  magnetism  acting  on  a  nature 
that  is  deficient.  That  may  sound  like  a  theory 
without  a  foundation,  but  I  don't  believe  it  is,  in 
this  case.  I  don't  believe  in  giving  medicine 
for  your  father,  but  would  like  to  see  my  ideas 
tried." 

"Then  I  wish  that  sailor-boy  would  come 
'quick  meter,'  doctor,"  said  Alma  energetically  ; 
and  when  the  doctor  had  gone  from  the  house 
she  said,  "  I  will  go  up  and  take  a  look  myself, 
and  see  if  there  is  any  sign  of  a  ship  coming  into 
harbor." 

She  came  down  exclaiming,  "  Pshaw !  " 

One  morning,  though,  the  boyish  voice  of 
Billy  rang  down  the  stairs  leading  to  the  kitchen 
where  Alma  was  at  work  ; 

"  O,  Alma,  I  just  saw  a  ship  !  " 

Alma  was  sweeping.     Clinging  to  the  broom- 


A  SAIL!  A  SAIL!  291 

handle  she  flew  up-stairs  and  along  the  garret- 
floor  to  the  window  where  stood  Billy.  It  was 
the  same  window  where  Sardinius  Walker,  stand- 
ing day  after  day,  had  in  vain  looked  off  upon 
the  blue  ocean,  seeing  only — water. 

"  Where,  Billy  ?  where  ? " 

The  grinning  Billy  nodded  toward  the  form  of 
a  ship  that  he  had  cut  out  of  paper  and  then 
pasted  upon  the  glass  pane. 

"  O,  Billy  !  Was  that  right — to  get  sister  up 
here  just  to  see  that  ? " 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  to  see  something,"  re- 
plied Billy,  hanging  his  head. 

"  Sister  was  very  busy." 

Billy,  who  was  like  some  other  people  that  are 
very  tender-hearted  after  a  mischievous  deed, 
stole  away  softly  and  sheepishly,  and  left  Alma 
alone  in  the  old  garret.  It  was  so  quiet  up  there 
under  the  brown  roof.  The  still  atmosphere 
was  very  restful  to  Alma.  She  tamed  to- 
ward Billy's  ship  and  laughed.  The  sound  of 
her  laugh  in  the  dusty  old  garret  was  very 
pleasant. 

"  Wish  I  had  laughed  with  Billy  !  "  she  said. 
"  It  rests  me  to  be  up  here." 

So  much  of  the  daily  fight  for  existence  fell 


292  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

to  the  lot  of  her  sword  and  shield  that  it  is  no 
wonder  she  was  wearied.  She  was  glad  to  have 
this  little  truce  of  peace  up  in  the  old  garret. 
She  looked  about  her.  There  were  her  bundles 
of  scented  herbs  hanging  from  the  brown,  dusty 
rafters.  There  were  the  old  pieces  of  Winthrop 
furniture  piled  up  in  one  corner.  There  were 
the  old  books  amid  which  her  father  found  the 
Winthrop  genealogy. 

"  Wonder  whose  Bible  that  was ! "  she  said, 
turning  back  the  covers  of  a  volume  very  old 
and  battered.  There  was  a  name  within.  She 
gave  a  start  when  she  read  it — "Alma  Win- 
throp ! " 

.  "  Did  not  know  there  was  any  one  with  my 
name,  though  the  squire  says  we  are  connected," 
she  exclaimed,  delighted  to  meet  with  the  name. 
"  Mother,  too,  says  there  is  Winthrop-blood  as 
well  as  Winslow-blood  in  us  ;  that  there  has  been 
an  intermarrying,  though  there  may  never  be 
again." 

Alma  did  not  like  to  follow  the  thread  of  this 
last  thought  any  farther.  She  turned  over  the 
musty  heap  of  books  again  ;  old  histories,  old 
school-books,  old  stories.  Then  s-he  came  back 
to  that  other  book,  Alma  Winthrop's  Bible. 


A  SAIL  !  A  SAIL  !  293 

"  Ought  to  go — but  I  will  stop,  though,"  she 
said,  "just  to  look  over  here." 

She  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  Psalms, 
where,  in  her  own  Bible,  she  had  found  many 
favorite  resting-places  for  her  tired  thoughts. 
She  now  read,  "He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret 
place  of  the  Most  High^  shall  abide  under  the 
shadow  of  the  Almighty." 

"  That  rests  me,"  said  Alma,  closing  the  book. 
"  I  must  go  down-stairs  to  my  work  now." 

Before  descending,  she  turned  toward  the  win- 
dow, one  of  whose  panes  still  carried  Billy's  dis- 
graced ship.  But  looking  across  the  tree-tops, 
feathery  with  the  new  green  foliage  of  the 
spring,  beyond  the  house-roofs  of  the  old  town, 
out  on  the  expanding,  blue  water,  what  was  it 
that  Alma  detected  ? 

A  tower  of  white  canvas  shining  in  the  morn- 
ing sun ! 

"  A  sail,"  said  Alma, "  coming  round  Jeffrey's 
Point !  If  that  were  only  the  Andromeda ! 
But  there !  it  may  be  the  Gitoaltar,  say,  from 
the  Mediterranean.  Perhaps  it  is  just  a  coaster. 
Well,  it  is  some  vessel  coming  from  somewhere, 
and  it  will  make  somebody  happy  !  " 

She  watched  for  a  moment  its  slow,  stately, 


294  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

dignified  approach  to  the  town,  and  then  in  her 
energetic  way  hurried  down-stairs. 

It  was  three  hours  later.  Alma's  school  was 
over.  Mrs.  Walker  had  already  laid  down  her 
work,  a  dress  that  she  was  making,  having  said, 
"  It  is  dreadful  unprofitable,  dress-makin'  is. 
Jt  is  more  profitable  to  get  dinner,  and  I  will 
get  it." 

Suddenly  Billy's  face — flushed,  eager — ap- 
peared at  the  back  door. 

"O,  mother!"  he  exclaimed.  Then,  seeing 
Alma,  he  rushed  up  to  his  mother  and  whispered, 
"  Don't  tell  Alma !  Let's  give  her  a  surprise !  " 

"There,  Billy,  do  speak  as  if  I  wasn't  most 
dead,  and  you  thought  a  word  aloud  would  kill 
me!"  advised  Mrs.  Walker;  and  rather  un- 
pleasantly added,  "  I  can't  hear,  child." 

The  rebuffed  Billy  shrank  toward  the  door 
again. 

"What  is  it,  Billy?"  asked  Alma,  pleasantly 
and  encouragingly. 

Billy,  though,  had  inherited  some,  at  least,  of 
his  mother's  peculiarities,  and,  like  her,  he  could 
sulk.  He  shook  his  head. 

"  What  is  it,  Billy  ? "  asked  Alma  again. 

Hark !     Was  it  a  spring-bird  whistling  out 


A  SAIL!  A  SAIL!  295 

in  the  back  yard  ?  No,  it  was  the  blithe,  ener- 
getic whistle  of  a  skillful  performer  of  the 
human  kind.  The  tune  came  nearer. 

"Why,  mother,"  said  Alma,  turning  pale, 
"  that  sounds  just  like  our  Bob  ! " 

The  whistle  approached  the  door,  and  before 
Alma  and  her  mother  could  get  to  it  a  manly 
step  sounded  on  the  threshold,  then  the  door 
itself  was  energetically  thrown  open,  and  there 
was  the  brown-faced  sailor-boy — Bob ! 

"  Hallo,  folks !  Here  I  am !  "  he  shouted. 
"  How  are  you  ? "  ^ 

Sncli  a  screaming,  and  then  a  mute  crying, 
Mother  Walker  seeming  to  wipe  apronfuls  of 
tears  out  of  her  eyes  as  she  leaned  her  head  on 
Bob's  strong  shoulder.  Alma  could  only  say, 
"  Why,  Bob  !  Bless  you,  I  say !  "  and  then  she 
also  cried.  Billy  was  the  only  seemingly  joyful 
one  of  the  group  that  received  Bob.  He  ca- 
pered about  the  room,  threw  up  his  hat,  and 
shouted,  "  Hurrah ! " 

Bob  was  telling  his  mother  and  Alma  not  to  cry, 
asking  them  if  they  wrere  not  glad  to  see  "the 
prodigal "  home  once  more,  declaring  it  was  so 
good  to  get  ashore  and  see  them  again,  when 
they  all  heard  a  steady  thump  —thump— thump 


296  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

on  the  stairs  leading  to  the  kitchen,  and  a  white 
face  in  a  rim  of  gray  hair  and  beard  showed 
itself. 

"  Hallo,  father ! "  shouted  Bob,  rushing  for- 
ward. 

"  You  don't  say  that  your  father  has  come 
down-stairs !  He  hasn't  been,  down  before  for 
a  week  !  And  without  his  cane !  "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Walker. 

"  Tell  him  you're  glad  to  see  him  stirring," 
whispered  Alma  to  Bob  when  she  could  get  a 
chance.  ^ 

"  Bob,  my  boy,  how  are  you ! "  said  Sar- 
dinins,  gripping  Bob's  hand  and  pumping  it  as 
if  he  never  meant  to  get  through. 

"  I  am  well,  father,  and  I  am  glad  to  see  you 
stirring  round  so  nicely." 

"  Thank  you,  Bob.  I  do  believe  I  am  going 
to  get  round  well  as  ever.  I  don't  know  but  I 
shall  go  off  whaling,"  Sardinius  dared  to  say 
with  a  smile. 

"  Good  for  you,  father !  You  may  be  cap- 
tain, and  I  will  be  crew.  Captain  Sardinius 
Walker,  of  the  good  ship  Arctic !  How  does 
that  sound,  father  ? " 

"  It  sounds  well,  Bob.     I  feel  better  already." 


A  SAIL!  A  SAIL!  29T 

And  as  Sardinius  Walker  continued  to  look 
at  this  vigorous,  muscular  young  tar  his  eyes 
caught  a  sparkle  from  Bob's,  his  form  straight- 
ened, and  a  new  vitality  seemed  to  run  through 
and  thrill  his  body. 

"  Just  in  time  for  dinner ! "  said  Alma. 
"  You  shall  have  what  you  want,  Bob." 

It  was  a  wonderful  dinner  that  day,  Bob  send- 
ing out  to  buy  a  few  delicacies,  but  the  love  that 
spread  the  feast,  waited  on  the  table,  and  made 
all  that  were  there  participants  in  the  joy  of  the 
hour  was  the  feature  which  gave  the  occasion  its 
great  attraction  and  charm. 

"  You  haven't  asked  about  Ralph,  Alma,"  said 
Bob. 

Alma  hung  her  head,  and  pretended  not  to 
hear. 

"  Bob,"  said  Ted  in  a  low  voice,  "  she — she — 
has  sort  of  grown  deaf,  and  can't  seem  to  hear 
some  words." 

"  Now,  Ted !  I  sha'n't  hear  you,  if  you  don't 
look  out — I  sha'n't  hear  you  and  give  you  a  piece 
of  my  sugar  pie  when  you  want  it." 

It  was  not  every  day  that  an  apple  pie  wholly 
sweetened  with  sugar  appeared  on  the  Walker 
table.  A  pie  in  which  there  was  nothing  but 


298  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

molasses  showed  the  cooking  was  for  an  ordinary 
occasion.  As  the  ordinary  approached  the  ex- 
traordinary, the  molasses  disappeared  and  sugar 
took  its  place.  The  character  of  the  occasion 
could  be  determined  by  the  amount  of  molasses 
or  sugar  in  Alma's  apple  pies.  To-day,  nothing 
sufficed  but  white  sugar,  and  Alma's  threat 
hushed  Ted  at  once.  She  had  an  opportunity 
speedily  to  learn  about  Ralph.  That  young  mar- 
iner had  suggested  to  Squire  Winthrop  that  the 
Walkers  might  like  some  of  the  asparagus  in  the 
squire's  big  garden-bed,  and  the  squire  readily 
took  the  hint  and  Ralph  bore  off  this  kindly 
donation !  Alas !  Mrs.  Walker  came  to  the  door, 
a  feature  of  the  programme  unanticipated  by 
Ralph.  Alma  had  fled  to  the  back  stairs,  and 
•  there  listened  eagerly  and  caught  every  word  he 
uttered  in  response  to  her  mother's  solicitous  in- 
quiries about  his  health. 

Looking  out  of  the  window,  about  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon,  Alma  saw  a  second  member  of  the 
crew  of  the  Andromeda  walking  with  Mary  Hav- 
iland.  It  was  Horace  Haviland,  and  Mary's  face 
was  flushed  with  an  inexpressible  joy.  Alma 
saw  them  near  Stock's  saloon,  an  infamous  old 
rum-hole. 


A  SAIL!  A  SAIL!  299 

"  "Wonder  if  he  will  leave  Mary  and  go  in 
there  ! "  thought  Alma.  "  That  is  what  Horace 
generally  does." 

To  her  surprise  and  pleasure,  Horace  walked 
past  the  open  door,  where  old  cronies  nodded  and 
beckoned. 

If  Alma  could  have  looked  under  the  old  but 
neat  gray  shawl  covering  the  shoulders  of  Mary 
Haviland,  she  would  have  seen  two  thin  hands 
nervously,  tightly  clasped. 

"  I  will  go  praying  past  this  bad  place,"  Mary 
had  said  in  her  thoughts. 

Horace  felt  weak,  but  he  walked  past  the  temp- 
tation. He  would  have  felt  stronger  if  he  could 
have  seen  the  two  clasped  hands  under  his  sis- 
ter's gray  shawl. 

One  other  member  of  the  crew  of  the  Androm- 
eda Alma  saw  that  day.  It  was  toward  even- 
ing. She  had  slipped  through  the  hall,  casting 
a  triumphant  glance  at  the  scowling  portrait  on 
the  wall.  By  her  glance  she  meant  to  say,  "  I 
have  a  protector  now.  My  brother  Bob  is  at 
home.'' 

She  went  into  the  front  room  once  occupied 
as  a  store  and  hastily  looked  out.  Who  was  it 
halting  before  the  steps  leading  to  the  front 


300  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

door,  as  if  desiring  to  corne  in,  and  yet  unde- 
cided ? 

"  Got  a  real  bull-dog  face ! "  said  Alma. 
"  However,  here  lie  comes,  and  I  will  go  to  the 
door  and  let  him  in." 

"The  Willoughbys  live  here?"  said  Bull- 
dog. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Alma  pleasantly,  though  she 
shrank  before  the  bold,  impudent  glance  of  this 
bull-dog. 

The  young  man  began  to  remark  that  it  was 
a  pleasant  evening.  Rather  than  see  the  Wil- 
loughbys  he  preferred  to  gaze  into  the  beauti- 
ful face  that  came  suddenly  out  of  the  dark 
depths  of  the  hall  and  looked  at  him  like  a  star 
coming  up  out  of  the  clouded  spaces  of  the  sky. 
Alma  was  not  willing  to  linger,  but  promptly 
said,  "  If  you  wish  to  see  the  Willoughbys, 
please  walk  this  way,"  and  she  proceeded  to 
cross  the  hall  to  a  door  upon  which  she  tapped. 
An  old  lady  quickly  opened  it.  Wishing  the 
Willoughbys  in  Europe,  or  some  other  conven- 
iently distant  place,  the  stranger  passed  beyond 
the  door  now  opened  to  him  and  disappeared. 

"  Ahem — m — m  ! " 

This  sound  came  from  the  upper  hall. 


A  SAIL!  A  SAIL!  301 

"Somebody  is  leaning  over  the  rail  of  the 
staircase,"  thought  Alma.  "  O,  it  is  Bob ! " 

She  joined  him  at  once. 

"  Alma — where — where — did  that  feller  come 
from?" 

"That  feller?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  you  know,  but  it's  one  of 
our  men,  Steve  Wyckham,  and  he  has  done  me 
a  lot  of  harm.  I  never  told  you,  but  he  said  I 
stole.  You  never  thought  that  of  me  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  not ;  and  when  folks  said — " 

"  What  folks  ? " 

Then  it  all  carne  out,  what  had  been  circulated 
about  the  town  through  the  letter  coining  to  the 
Willoughbys  from  the  distant  Andromeda,  a 
letter  sent  by  a  sailor  on  board  the  whaler. 

"  And  every  body  knows  it  ? "  asked  Bob, 
walking  the  floor  indignantly.  "  I  didn't  think 
it  worth  noticing  in  my  letter." 

"  Now,  Bob  ! "  said  Alma,  laying  her  gentle 
but  magnetic  hands  on  her  brother's  shoulder. 
"  None  of  us  believed  it,  of  course,  and  I  don't 
believe  the  Willoughbys  do.  And  that's  the 
Steve  Wyckham  who  sent  home  the  lie  !  " 

"  How  did  you  know  his  name  ?  " 

"  The  Willoughbys  themselves  told  me." 


302  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  How — how  did  they  come  here  ? " 
"  I  don't  wonder  you  ask.  Well — let  rne  tell 
you — they  are  real  nice  people.  We  wanted  to 
let  some  of  our  rooms — to  reduce  expenses,  you 
know — and  we  got  a  real  estate  broker  to  let 
them.  Well,  he  hadn't  been  in  town  long,  and 
he  didn't  know  we  had  had  any  reason  to  dislike 
the  Willoughbys,  and  the  Willoughbys  are  not 
old  residents  and  didn't  know  who  the  people 
were  that  wanted  to  let  the  rooms,  but  were  in  a 
hurry  to  get  somewhere,  and  took  our  rooms, 
and,  you  might  say,  were  in  them  before  we  had 
a  chance  to  say  l  Boo ! '  And  when  I  found 
out  who  they  were,  Bob,  I  didn't  know  what  to 
do  !  I  was  just  stunne*d  to  think  those  people 
wrere  in  the  house  who  had  circulated  that  story 
about  my  brother!  'Well,  Alma  Walker,'  I 
said,  '  here  they  are,  and  you  must  get  along 
with  them,  somehow.  Perhaps — perhaps,  they 
can  put  a  better  face  on  this  matter  than  you 
think  for.  However,  here  they  are,  and  you 
must,  must — that's  the  word — get  along  with 
them,  somehow.  You  must  not  go  into  a  corner 
and  sulk*' I  said.  '  You  must  see  that  Mrs.  Wil- 
loughby,  and  make  the  best  of  her  good  points, 
for  you  must  live  beside  her  for  a  while  at  least ; 


A  SAIL!  A  SAIL!  303 

and  you  had  better  live  beside  what  is  good  in 
her  rather  than  what  is  bad — supposing  there  is 
any  thing  bad,  you  know,  which  might  come 
out.'  So  I  went  to  her  and  talked  with  her,  and 
she  is  a  real  nice  old  lady,  and  her  husband  is  a 
nice  old  man.  I  told  her  about  the  letter,  and 
how  badly  we  felt,  and  she  was  real  sorry.  She 
said  she  was  careless  in  reading  the  letter  to  a 
relative,  who  went  home  to  another  town,  and 
there  scattered  the  news  that  in  this  round-about 
way  reached  Oldburyport,  but  she  would  try  to 
rectify  her  mistake  and  tell  people — " 

"  You  can't  very  well  get  fire  back  that  you 
pitch  into  a  haymow,"  said  Bob  stoutly. 

"  I  know  it,jjgnd  there  is  the  mischief,  Bob, 
but  she  is  sorry,  and  I  think  you  will  see  that. 
She  is  really  a  nice  old  lady,  and  she  says  that 
Steve  Wyckharn  is  not  a  near  relative,  but  one 
she  has  rarely  seen,  and  she  does  not  understand 
why  Steve  wrote  to  her — 

"  O,  he  wanted  to  scatter  his  fire  some- 
where." 

"  But  don't  you  mind  it,  Bob.  The  right  is 
bound  to  win  sometime.  And  did  you  notice 
that  Mrs.  Willoughby  did  not  give  Steve  a  very 
warm  reception  ? " 


304  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  I  thought  she  seemed  rather  quiet  over  his 
arrival." 

"  Depend  upon  it,  she  is  your  friend.  Now, 
you  just  go  ahead  and  show  that  you  have  done 
right  by  being  right,  to-day — " 

"  My  dear,  venerable  sister ! "  said  Bob,  laying 
his  strong  brown  hands  on  her  shoulder.  "  I 
am  going  to  do  the  right  thing  in  this  matter, 
and  I  am  very  grateful  to  you  for  wishing  to 
help  me.  Shouldn't  wonder  if  this  slander 
turned  up  sometime  and  tried  to  trip  me,  but — 
but — I  mean  to  go  ahead  and  do  what  is  right ; 
and  since  I  left  home,  I  think  I  have  found 
some  One  who  will  stand  by  me  in  trying  to  do 
right." 

That  speech  had  the  right  ring.  It  contained 
something,  too,  that  echoed  very  pleasantly  in 
Alma's  thoughts  that  night,  when  she  went  to 
sleep — even  Bob's  assurance  that  he  had  found 
a  strong  Friend.  Bob,  too,  when  he  went  to  his 
rest,  found  comfort  in  the  same  thought.  He 
seemed  in  his  dreams  to  be  on  the  deck  of  the 
Andromeda  again.  He  was  alone,  save  that 
Steve  Wyckham  was  in  a  strange  way  at  inter- 
vals appearing,  trying  to  control  the  helm  and 
head  the  Andromeda  for  an  ugly  reef  of  rocks. 


A  SAIL!  A  SAIL!  305 

When,  though,  this  cruel,  wrecking  purpose 
might  threaten  to  be  successful,  some  power 
would  interfere,  check  and  prevent  Steve,  and 
the  Andromeda  would  continue  to  sail  pros- 
perously on. 

"I  have  a  Friend  that  will  stand  by  me,"  mur- 
mured the  tired  sailor-boy  in  his  dreams. 
20 


306  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  WRECK  THAT  WAS  NOT  A  WRECK. 


in!" 

This  was  a  response  to  Bob's  knock  on 
the  door  of  the  office  where  John  Winthrop  & 
Sons  were  supposed  still  to  send  out  ships  and 
also  to  welcome  ships  back.  In  the  rear  of  the 
building  in  which  this  office  was  located, 
stretched  a  long  wharf  out  into  the  wide,  blue 
river.  On  the  roof  of  the  building  was  a  little 
railed  platform  with  a  flag-  staff.  From  that  look- 
out any  approaching  vessel  could  be  watched, 
and  if  it  belonged  to  "  John  Winthrop  & 
Sons,"  a  bright  little  flag  would  flutter  from  the 
flag-staff.  The  day  the  Andromeda  arrived,  the 
stars  and  stripes  were  thrown  to  the  breeze  from 
the  crown  of  this  flag-staff,  and  it  did  old  sea- 
captains  who  never  would  sail  a  craft  again 
much  good  to  look  up  and  see  that  fluttering  sig- 
nal of  a  fresh  arrival  from  the  sea.  The  firm 
of  John  Winthrop  &  Sous,  that  was  supposed 
to  number  several  active  and  vigorous  partners, 


A  WRECK  THAT  WAS  NOT  A  WRECK.     307 

and  to  do  all  this  sending  out  and  receiving  back, 
in  reality  did  very  little  of  the  work. 

John  Winthrop,  the  squire's  father,  long  had 
been  dead.  The  squire  and  his  brothers,  Isaac 
and  Josiah,  were  the  "  sons."  These  brothers 
were  dead.  They  were  single,  and  left  no  heir, 
male  or  female,  to  continue  an  interest  in  the 
business.  One  old  man,  the  squire,  continued 
to  write  "  John  Winthrop  &  Sons."  It  was  not 
in  so  bold  a  hand  as  formerly,  for  the  squire's 
late  sickness  had  affected  his  signature,  and  the 
firm  name,  "John  Winthrop  &  Sons,"  looked 
like  a  vessel  trembling  before  the  assault  of 
heavy  seas.  The  squire  had  a  faithful  old  clerk, 
Thomas  Alden,  who  cared  for  his  interests,  and 
really  did  the  business  of  the  firm,  and  it  was 
his  ready,  decided  voice  that  said  "  Come  in  ! " 
when  Bob  knocked  at  the  office-door  of  John 
Winthrop  &  Sons. 

"  The  squire  in  ? "  asked  Bob. 

The  clerk  made  no  reply,  but  nodded  in  the 
direction  of  a  door  opening  out  of  this  office  into 
some  apartment  beyond. 

"  All  right !  I'll  wait,"  said  Bob,  who  caught 
the  sound  of  voices  in  the  room. 

"  If  I  can  do  any  thing  for  you,  I  may  save 


308  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

you  the  trouble  of  waiting,"  said  the  obliging 
clerk. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Alden.  I — I — don't  know 
as  it  will  do  any  good  to  speak  of  it." 

Bob  twirled  his  hat  in  his  hands. 

"  It  won't  do  any  harm,  at  any  rate.  So  out 
with  it,  Bob ! " 

A  philanthropic  look  out  of  the  old  clerk's 
spectacles  helped  Bob  to  go  on. 

"  "Well,  sir,  though  I  have  got  my  hand  in  as 
a  sailor,  it  doesn't  seem  to  me  as  if  I  had  better 
go  off  again,  jnst  now,  at  any  rate  ;  and  you 
know  father  is  pretty  feeble." 

"  I  see,  Botb,  I  see !     Exactly  ! " 

"  Well,  I  wondered  if  I  couldn't  get  some- 
thing ashore,  and  the  next  thing  to  going  to  sea 
is  to— to— " 

"  Don't  be  bashful,  Bob ! " 

"Is  to  get  a  chance  in  a  shipping-office. 
There !  Do  you  suppose  the  squire  wants  a 
clerk?" 

The  old  clerk  laughed. 

"  I  don't  know  as  the  squire  feels  his  need  of 
any  help,  but  I  should  like  a  lift.  I  had  as  lief 
have  you  as  any  body,  and  much  rather  have  you 
than  a  good  many  I  can  think  of." 


A  WJRECK  THAT  WAS  NOT  A  WRECK.    309 

"  That  is  encouraging.     Thank  you ! " 

"  Only,  Bob  "—and  here  the  old  clerk  looked 
toward  the  inner  door — "the  squire  probably 
feels  like  retrenching  rather  than  enlarging  his 
expenses.  Perhaps  you  know — " 

"  Yes,  I  heard  something  about  it  on  the  street. 
A  vessel  lost,  wasn't  there  ? " 

"That  is  it,  or  part  of  it.  The  vessel  was 
heavily  insured — " 

"  Then  why  don't  the  insurance  folks  pay  over 
the  money  ? " 

"There's  the  rub.  Their  agent,  by  the  way, 
is  in  that  room  now.  He  lives  here,  and  the 
company  in  New  York  told  him  to  talk  the  mat- 
ter over  and  report  to  them.  They  claim  that 
there  is  not  sufficient  evidence  of  the  loss  of  the 
vessel.  Well,  all  we  can  claim  is  that  the  vessel 
left  port  and  has  not  been  heard  from  except — " 

"  Haven't  the  crew  turned  up  ? " 

"  ]STot  a  man  of  them.  O,  the  ship  is  lost,  no 
doubt  about  it !  She  was  seen  just  after  a  heavy 
storm,  and  she  flew  a  signal  of  distress.  The 
vessel  that  saw  her  was  herself  disabled,  and 
could  render  no  aid  and  went  on.  O,  the  craft 
was  lost !  Why,  Bob,  I  feel  as  sure  of  it  as  that 
I  am  sitting  here." 


310  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

"  And  I  suppose  that  the  insurance  money  is 
wanted  by  the  squire." 

"  Exactly.  Then,  you  know,  the  Andromeda 
brought  home  part  of  another  whaler's  cargo." 

This  was  a  re-enforcement  received  at  a  Chili 
port,  where  the  Andromeda  called,  and,  accord- 
ing to  previous  agreement,  she  took  a  part  of  the 
cargo  of  another  whaler  that  went  off  again  on  a 
second  cruise. 

"  Well,  the  squire  is  obliged  to  pay  for  the  oil 
transferred  to  the  Andromeda,  and  at  rates  such 
that  he  can't  realize  the  profit  that  he  expected 
to  get — the  oil-market  not  being  so  favorable  as 
it  was — and  all  this,  you  see,  we  feel.  O,  I  tell 
them  we  shall  weather  the  storm  all  right ;  but, 
you  see,  we  have  got  to  take  in  spare  canvas." 

"  And  not  use  any  you  don't  need ;  and  that 
means  you  can't  hire  a  clerk  ?  They  talk  pretty 
earnestly,  don't  they  ? " 

It  was  the  squire's  voice  that  could  now  be 
heard. 

"  Getting  to  be  pretty  warm  work  in  there," 
observed  the  clerk.  "  The  squire^  yesterday 
didn't  have  strength  enough  to  talk  much  above  a 
whisper.  You  know  he  is  getting  that  weak  he 
has  to  ride  in  his  carriage  to  the  office.  Used  to 


A  WKECK  THAT  WAS  NOT  A  WKECK.    311 

pride  himself  on  walking  every  day,  stiff  as  a 
major.  Poor  man!  Had  to  come  to  riding  at 
last  1  That's  the  squire." 

The  squire's  voice  could  now  be  plainly  heard : 

"  I  tell  you,  sir—" 

"  That's  the  squire,"  observed  the  clerk,  "  and 
he  is  talking  to  that  insurance  agent,  a  mean  sort 
of  a  snipper-snapper,  I  think." 

"  I  tell  you,  sir,"  continued  the  squire,"  that 
John  Winthrop  &  Sons  only  want  what  is 
fairly  theirs.  The  need  of  this  insurance  money 
may  ruin  our  business,  but  if  I  thought  the  ves- 
sel's value  could  not  be  honestly  given  us,  perish 
the  money  before  I  would  take  a  penny  of  it ! 
Our  firm — ' 

"  The  squire  is  on  too  high  a  key  for  the  good 
of  his  health.  Doctor  told  him  to  be  quiet,  but 
he  is  dreadful  stiff  on  any  thing  like  honor,"  in- 
terjected the  clerk  as  the  squire  paused  to  take 
breath. 

"  Our  firm,  resumed  the  old  man  in  the  inner 
office,  "  has  a  name  for  honesty — " 

"  Fiddle-sticks !  "  squeaked  a  mean  little  voice. 
"  All  firms  look  after  their  own  interests." 

"  The  wretch ! "  observed  the  clerk  to  Bob. 
"  That's  the  agent." 


312  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

"  Do  you  want  him  stopped  ? "  asked  Bob,  the 
sailor,  rising  from  his  seat.  "  I'll  just  tell  him 
we  can't  have  that." 

"Thank'ee!  Sit  down!  The  squire  will 
chew  him  all  up  before  he  gets  through  with 
him."  said  Thomas  Alden. 

"Yes,  sir,  a  name  for  honesty,"  shouted  the 
squire.  "Rather  than  take  the  money  wrong- 
fully, I  prefer  the  welfare  of  the  firm  should 

go  and  stay  where  I  believe  the is,  at  the 

bottom  of  the  sea." 

Bob  hopped  so  quickly  from  his  chair  that 
the  old  clerk  in  alarm  hopped  from  his  also. 

"  What — what — did  he  say  the  name  of  that 
lost  ship  was,  Mr.  Alden  ?  The ? " 

Bob's  excitement  was  so  great  that  the  name 
he  now  repeated  was  rather  indistinct,  but  the 
old  bald-headed  clerk  had  heard  it  so  often  that 
he  could  make  it  out. 

"  That's  it,  Bob." 

"  Lost  in  what  ocean  ? " 

The  clerk  had  no  sooner  pronounced  the  name 
than  Bob  shouted,"  I'll  be  back  in  a  jiffy  1  Tell 
the  squire  to  hold  on — and — to  keep — that  grind- 
stone— there — and — I — I — " 

Bob's  last  words  were  all  cut  off  by  the  clos- 


A  WKECK  THAT  WAS  NOT  A  WRECK.     313 

ing  of  the  door,  which  in  his  excitement  he  shut 
with  a  bang.  The  noise  in  the  outer  room  had 
now  reached  the  inner  room  and  aroused  the 
wondering  interest  of  the  two  men  there.  If 
Bob  could  have  looked  back  through  a  thick- 
ness of  wood,  he  would  have  seen  two  faces  at 
the  half-opened  door  of  the  inner  office.  One 
was  like  that  of  a  sharp-nosed  fox.  Above  it 
was  that  of  an  old,  white-haired  man  trembling 
with  excitement,  but  such  a  kindly,  honorable 
look  did  it  wear  that  a  poor  widow  would  have 
readily  trusted  with  it  her  mites  for  safe-keep- 
ing. But  Bob  did  not  see  the  two  faces.  He 
did  not  seem  to  see  any  thing — the  office  stairs 
down  over  which  he  rushed — the  side-walk,  and 
Horace  Haviland — who  stood  on  it,  shouting, 
"  Ship  ahoy  !  How  are  ye,  Bob  ? " — or  any  of 
the  buildings  lining  the  streets  that  led  to  Bob's 
house.  As  he  flew  in,  he  ran  against  his  mother, 
who  was  rubbing  the  brass  knocker  on  the  front 
door,  and  almost  pitched  over  a  neighbor's  dog 
asleep  at  the  foot  of  the  hall  stair-way. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Bob?"  asked  his 
mother. 

"  That  boy  gone  mad  ? "  said  his  father,  who 
had  just  now  thrust  his  head  out  of  the  door  of 


314  SAILOB-BOY  BOB. 

a  lower  room  and  saw  Bob's  entrance  and  also 
the  flight  up-stairs. 

"And  what  has  he  got.  in  his  hand? "  said  the 
bewildered  Sardinius,  as  he  looked  again  and 
saw  a  rusty  brown  object  in  the  hand  of  Bob. 
who  was  now  descending  the  stairs. 

Bob  said  nothing,  but  rushed  round  through 
the  kitchen,  into  the  back  yard,  and  thence  into 
the  lane  leading  to  Squire  Winthrop's. 

"  See — see  here,  Ralph !  Put  on  your  hat 
and  come  down  quicker  than  a  harpoon  after  a 
whale,"  said  Bob  to  his  astonished  shipmate, 
stretched  out  under  an  apple-tree. 

"  Down  where,  Bob  ? " 

"  Office !  "  shouted  Bob,  who  had  turned  to 
leave  Ralph.  "  Quick ! " 

"  What  is  it  3     Fire  ? "  asked  Ralph. 

"Yes,  one  kind  of  fire,"  shouted  back  the 
rushing  Bob,  and  hurried  off  through  the  lane. 
Ralph  understood  his  impetuous  shipmate,  and 
followed  at  once,  knowing  it  was  something  that 
needed  immediate  attention.  Bob  was  quickly 
back  at  the  office  of  John  Winthrop  &  Sons, 
and  saying  to  Mr.  Alden,  "  Come  here,  please ! " 
hastened  to  the  inner  office,  the  door  of  which 
was  still  partially  open,  and  abruptly  knocked. 


A  WRECK  THAT  WAS  NOT  A  WKECK.    315 

"  Come  in ! "  said  the  'squire  in  tones  that 
were  weak  now. 

Bob  entered.  The  old  clerk  followed.  They 
saw  the  squire,  with  a  face  ashy  pale,  sitting  at  a 
large  round  mahogany  table.  Opposite  him  sat 
Samuel  Strippings,  the  fox-faced  agent. 

"  There !  "  exclaimed  Bob,  depositing  on  the 
table  a  relic  of  his  trip  to  the  Pacific,  and  care- 
fully preserved  by  him.  "That  is  a  piece  of 
the  Caspar  you  have  been  talking  about.  I  saw 
a  part  of  the  wreck — I  can  prove  it — by  Ralph 
Winthrop — who  was  off  in  a  boat  with  me 
— and  saw  what— was  left  of  the  old  thing. 
There ! " 

Bob  now  stopped  to  breathe.  He  also  in- 
dulged in  the  comfort  of  wiping  from  his  face 
the  perspiration  that  was  running  down.  The 
effect  on  the  three  spectators  was  electrical. 
The  squire  rose  eagerly  from  his  chair,  and  his 
tall  form  bowed  over  the  mute  witness  from  the 
Pacific. 

"  Indeed  ! "  exclaimed  Thomas  Alden,  rushing 
to  the  table. 

"  Pooh ! "  said  Strippings.  "  What  does  that 
amount  to  !  A  piece  of  drift-wood — and  noth- 
ing on  it ! " 


316  SAILOR  BOY  BOB. 

"  Nothing  on  it  I "  said  Bob.  "  There's  a  P  on 
it ;  and  if  you  had  seen  the  rest  of  the  vessel's 
stern — supposing  you  know  what  part  of  the 
vessel  that  is — you  would  have  seen,  on  one  side 
of  the  P,  a  C  and  an  A  and  an  S.  On  the  other 
side  were  A  and  K.  C-A-S-P-A-R,  Caspar. f" 
shouted  Bob. 

"Just  you  saw  it,  or  pretended  to  see?"  sar- 
castically remarked  Strippings. 

"  No,  sir ! "  thundered  Bob. 

"No,  sir!"  added  another  voice  quietly.  It 
was  Ralph,  who,  unobserved,  had  come  in.  He 
then  proceeded  to  detail  the  account  of  that 
night's  experience  on  the  wide  Pacific  when  he 
and  Bob  were  adrift,  and  fully  explained  about 
the  wreck.  "As  for  the  name,  Caspar,  I  saw 
it  myself,  and  I  can  testify  that  this  P" — 
Ralph  here  laid  his  hand  on  the  dumb  witness 
from  the  Pacific — "  was  a  part  of  the  name." 

At  the  young  men's  request,  Captain  Granby 
came  and  testified  that,  while  he  did  not  per- 
sonally visit  that  remnant  of  the  Caspar,  he  saw 
it  from  the  deck  of  the  Andromeda.  The  re- 
sult was  that  the  insurance  company  decided 
to  pay  Squire  Winthrop  his  claim  ;  much  to  the 
mortification  of  Strippings  but  to  the  joy  of 


A  WKKCK  THAT  WAS  NOT  A  WKECK.    317 

Squire  Winthrop  and  all  his  friends.  The 
wreck  was  not  a  wreck  after  all, 

"  And  it  will  be  a  good  thing  for  you,  Bob. 
The  squire  won't  forget  it ! "  declared  his  father 
eagerly,  for  nowadays  he  took  a  quickened  in- 
terest in  every  thing,  and  especially  in  the  plans 
of  his  "  plucky  sailor-boy,"  as  he  called  Bob. 
It  was  good  to  see  how  the  father  seemed  to 
take  a  new  lease  of  life,  once  more  fondly  plan- 
ning and  once  more  deeply  enjoying.  "  Bob,  I 
feel  better,"  he  would  say.  Bob's  coming  was 
like  the  strong,  steady  blowing  of  the  sea-wind 
after  a  long  stretch  of  August  heat;  reviving 
and  invigorating. 

He  now  dreamed  of  Bob's  better  prospects 
for  life,  arguing  that  Squire  Winthrop,  in  grati- 
tude to  Bob,  must  necessarily  take  him  into  his 
office. 

"  Yes,"  reasoned  the  father,  "  I  know  the 
squire  would  like  to  have  a  Winthrop  in  the 
firm  and  succeed  to  his  business,  and  Bob  has 
got  Winthrop  blood  in  him." 

The  discussion  of  Bob's  future  so  aroused 
Bob's  father  that  he  even  ventured  out  of  doors 
again,  limped  on  his  cane  as  far  as  the  door  of 
Squire  Winthrop's  office,  and  there  he  stood, 


318  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

looking  in  and  wondering  how  it  would  seem 
if  some  day  lie  should  see  Bob  mounting  that 
ambitious  flight  of  stone  steps  before  the  office 
door  as  a  member  of  the  firm. 

"  Yes,"  reflected  Sardmius  Walker,  limping 
away  from  the  door,  "  Bob  will  surely  get  into 
the  firm." 

Before,  though,  Bob  could  get  into  the  firm, 
or  any  where  near  it,  some  one  went  out  of  the 
firm  who  was  very  essential  to  the  success  of 
Bob's  plans.  Squire  Winthrop  died. 


ASSAULT  ONE.  319 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ASSAULT  ONE. 

11  rPHAT  excitement  about  the  Caspar  did  the 
-L  squire  no  good,"  said  Dr.  Bates.  His 
vitality  was  at  a  low  ebb,  and  any  new  demands 
upon  the  squire's  resources  of  strength  seriously 
affected  him.  After  the  favorable  decision 
about  the  Caspar  he  declined  rapidly,  and  even 
contentedly.  Prosperity  seemed  to  make  a  rea- 
son for  going  rather  than  staying. 

"  I  am  an  old  man,"  he  said.  "  I  know  I  must 
go  sometime.  Besides,  I  leave  my  business, 
my  estate,  in  a  satisfactory  condition.  I  don't 
need  to  live  longer  for  that  reason.  There  are 
some  things  which  I  would  like  to  do  personally 
for  you  and  the  Walkers  and  Ralph,  but  I  can 
fix  it  all  in  my  will.  I  will  have  my  lawyer, 
Mr.  Hatch,  call  to-morrow.  I  will  get  you  to 
send  for  him  at  ten  in  the  morning." 

He  said  this  to  Aunt  Mary,  his  housekeeper, 
one  evening.  Hearing  Alma's  voice  down  in 
the  hall,  he  asked  that  she  might  be  called 


320  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

up.  He  requested  that  Ralph  might  be  sum- 
moned. 

"  I  like  to  see  those  young  people  often  as  I' 
can,"  he  told  Aunt  Mary. 

He  took  Alma  by  the  hand  and  greeted  her 
very  cordially,  and  when  Ralph  appeared  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  bed,  the  squire  wel- 
comed him  as  heartily. 

"  It  was  a  dreadful  interestin'  sight,"  Aunt 
Mary  afterward  told  a  neighbor,  "  to  see  those 
two  young  people  in  all  their  bloomin'  beauty, 
and  that  old  man  between  them  a-holdin'  their 
hands.  It  was  near  sunsettin',  you  know,  and 
a  kind  of  soft  golden  light  playin'^over  his  pale 
face  and  white  hairs." 

*  It  was  the  warm-hearted,  quick-eyed  Alma 
who  first  seemed  to  have  a  presentiment  of  a 
very  near  and  significant  change.  She  bowed 
her  head  and  began  to  sob.  Ralph  noticed  it, 
and  the  tears  began  to  trickle  down  his  cheeks. 

"  Come,  come  ! "  said  the  squire  almost  play- 
fully, "  I  didn't  call  you  young  people  in  here 
to  feel  this  way.  You  must  be  brave,  and  I 
know  you  will.  As  for  me,  I  am  an  old  man, 
and  sometime  I  must  go  to  my  heavenly  Fa- 
ther's home.  He  has  the  best  home  in  the 


ASSAULT  ONE.  321 

universe,  and  to  me  it  seems  like  a  very  simple 
thing  to  slip  out  of  this  home  into  that,  yon 
know.  It  is  only  a  step  over  the  threshold  of  a 
door  gently  swinging  back.  Death  is  kind." 
He  paused  for  a  while.  "You  two,"  he  said, 
"  must  always  be  good  friends." 

He  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and  said  he 
would  not  keep  them  any  longer.  He  told  his 
housekeeper  he  would  like  to  look  off  upon  the 
sunset,  and,  as  he  felt  very  well,  that  the  nurse 
— a  man  from  the  town  hospital — might  leave 
him  for  the  night.  Lying  on  his  side,  he  could 
look  off  upon  the  western  sky,  where  it  seemed 
as  if  his  heavenly  Father  were  building  a  beau- 
tiful door  to  the  everlasting  home.  "When  they 
went  to  the  squire  in  the  morning,  he  did  not 
stir,  he  did  not  speak,  he  did  not  open  his  eyes. 
He  had  passed  within  the  beautiful  door. 

"  Why,  I  do  believe  he  has  gone  ! "  exclaimed 
Aunt  Mary. 

Yes,  gone,  but  leaving  in  the  very  peace  and 
beauty  of  the  face  a  silent  sign  that  the  late 
tenant  of  this  imperfect,  perishable  body  had 
passed  to  that  which  is  complete  and  imperish- 
able. He  had  gone  to  the  Father's  House. 

The  squire's  death  made  a  change  in  the  plans 
21 


322  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

of  many  people.  Bob  felt  that  his  prospects 
were  suddenly  and  deeply  clouded.  The  squire 
had  not  accepted  him  formally  as  a  clerk,  but  it 
was  thought  that  he  would.  In  a  few  days  after 
the  squire's  funeral,  Bob's  hopes,  that  had  begun 
to  sink,  rose  again. 

"  Father,"  he  said  one  day  on  his  return  home 
from  the  business  street  of  the  town,  "  I  met 
Mr.  Hatch,  Squire  Winthrop's  lawyer,  and  he 
told  me  that  Thomas  Alden  would  continue  the 
business,  and  I  know  Thomas  will  need  help, 
and  I  will  go  down  and  call  on  him." 

Mr.  Alden  did  not  receive  Bob  so  cordially  as 
on  a  previous  occasion,  when  the  young  sailor 
made  known  his  desire  for  a  clerkship. 

"  So  you  want  to  be  a  clerk  ?  "  remarked  Mr. 
Alden,  rather  coolly. 

"  Why,  yes,  sir ;  I  thought  that  was  under- 
stood." 

Mr.  Alden  played  with  his  penholder,  as  if 
undecided  what  to  do  or  say. 

"  Bob,"  he  at  last  remarked,  "  I  don't  like  to 
speak  of  it,  but  yesterday,  somebody  else  applied 
for  the  situation,  saying  he  was  in  the  family, 
and  so  on.  He  left  his  card.  You  know 
him  ? " 


ASSAULT  ONE.  323 

Bob,  to  bis  surprise,  read  this  name  :  "  Ste- 
phen Winthrop  Wyckham." 

"  He  want  the  place  ?     That  fellow !  " 

"  So  he  says,  Bob ;  and,  what  is  more,  when  I 
told  him  that  you  had  applied  for  the  situation 
— now  you  will  not  be  offended  because  I  am 
frank?" 

"  O,  go  on,  Mr.  Alden." 

"  When  I  told  him  that  you  wanted  the  place 
— and  let  me  say  I  also  added  that  I  wanted  you 
to  have  it — he  said, '  You  don't  want  a  thief? ' " 

Bob  twisted  round  in  his  chair  nervously. 

"  «  Of  course  I  don't,'  I  told  him.  '  Well,'  he 
said,  '  he  stole  a  dollar  from  me  on  board  the 
Andromeda,  and  I  can  prove  it.'  Said  I,  'That 
is  a  pretty  serious  charge ;  and  you  can  prove 
it,  can  you  ? '  Without  hesitation  he  said  he 
would,  and  he  promised  to  call  again  this  after- 
noon at  three.  I  want  you  to  be  here,  and  I 
told  him,  in  fact,  you  must  be  notified,  and  a 
note  has  gone  to  you." 

'"  I  would  like  to  face  him  on  that  charge," 
said  Bob.  "  I  have  been  wanting  to  see  him.. 
He  spent  one  night  at  the  Wi Hough bys',  but  saw 
fit  to  go  away  early  in  the  morning,  and  I  did 
not  know  he  had  turned  up." 


324  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  He  is  stopping  at  the  Bedford  House,  he 
says.  He  has  been  out  of  town." 

Bob  now  detailed  to  Mr.  Alden  the  affair  of 
the  finding  of  Steve's  dollar  in  his  mitten,  and 
added,  "  I  allow  that  it  seemed  to  be  against  me, 
but  God  knows  I  am  innocent.  One  of  two 
things  is  true  :  either  the  dollar  was  tucked  away 
in  my  mitten  by  an  enemy  who  on  the  voyage 
got  access  to  my  chest,  or  somebody  tucked  the 
dollar  in  before  leaving  port." 

"  Who  gave  you  the  mittens  ? " 

"  My  sister,  sir — or  they  came  through  her." 

"  Doesn't  she  know  any  thing  about  it  ? " 

"  Nothing,  sir.  She  says  she  didn't  put  the 
dollar  in.  Last  night  she  raised  the  point  whether 
the  man  who  did  give  them,  Charlie  Habermann, 
might  not  know  something  about  the  dollar." 

"  Why,  that  is  not  improbable." 

"  No,  sir  ;  but  then  Charlie  did  not  say  any 
thing  about  it,  and  rny  sister  did  not  pnt  the 
dollar  inside  his  present.  However,  I  thought 
I  would  ask  him." 

"  You  do  so,  Bob." 

"  I  will  ask  him  now." 

"  I  would,  and  come  at  three." 

Charlie  Habermann  was   in  his   store.     His 


ASSAULT  ONE.  325 

stock  was  as  ranch  of  a  pudding  as  ever,  and 
as  a  fleet  of  fishing  vessels  bad  arrived  in  the 
lower  harbor  and  would  soon  send  a  swarm  of 
customers  up  to  the  stores,  his  goods  would  be 
thrown  into  new  confusion. 

"  I  stopped  you  on  the  street  one  day  and 
thanked  you  for  a  pair  of  mittens  you  gave  a 
sailor-boy  through  Alma  when  he  went  to  sea." 

"  Dat  shailor-boy  welcome  !  " 

"  I  know  it.  I  didn't  tell  you  at  the  time  that 
a  dollar  found  in  them  made  me  trouble.  Some- 
body claimed  the  money  as  his  and  said  I  stole 
it." 

"No  such  ting!" 

"Of  course  not.  I  wonder  if  you  perhaps 
did  not  put  the  dollar  inside,"  said  Bob,  a  look 
of  hope  spreading  over  his  face. 

"  My  hands  put  no  money  in  dose  mittens.". 

The  look  of  hope  vanished  from  Bob's 
features. 

"  Well,  that  leaves  the  mystery  deep  as  ever. 
I  suppose  I  must  go  to  Alden  and  tell  him." 

"  Alden  ?     In  Winthrop's  office  ? " 

"Yes,  I  want  a  situation  there,  and  Alden 
says  he  had  a  caller  who  has  been  accusing  me 
of  stealing  the  dollar  in  the  mittens.  The  same 


326  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

rascal  followed  me  on  the  sea  and  now  pursues 
me  on  the  land." 

"  Robert,  you  keep  shtill.  You  can  go  pack 
on  your  crachter.  You  jest  shtay  shtill  and  holt 
on  dere.  I  will  go  and  see  Alden." 

Muttering  away,  the  store-keeper  hurried  off, 
while  Bob  went  home  wondering  what  Haber- 
mann,  in  his  ignorance,  could  say  that  would  help 
hi?  cause  in  the  office  of  John  Winthrop  &  Sons. 

"  Joost  de  woman  I  want,"  said  Habermann  to 
Mary  Haviland,  whom  he  met  before  the  Win- 
throps'  office.  "  Now,  come  up-shtairs." 

"  You  want  me,  Mr.  Habermann  ?  " 

The  bewildered  Mary  followed  her  leader,  and 
the  two  stood  before  Mr.  Alden. 

"Now,  Mishter  Alden,  you  want  to  know 
if  Bobshtole?" 

"  O,  is  that  it  ?  I  was  curious  to  know  what 
you  two  wanted." 

"  Now,  Mary,  put  on  your  tinking  cap." 

Mary  in  her  perplexity  stared  out  of  her  great 
gray  eyes. 

"  You  go  pack  to  Bob's  shailing  away." 

She  nodded  her  head. 

"  You  remember  one  fine  pair  of  inittensh  I 
gabe  him  ? " 


ASSAULT  ONE.  327 

Again  she  nodded. 

"  A  shailor  more  den  half  troonk  came  to  my 
shtore  one  day,  and  bought  some  tings  and  paid 
me  a  tollar  wid  a  crosh  on  it,  and  I  tole  you  to 
take  dat  tollar  and  go  to  Bob's  house  and  get 
dose  mittensh  and  slip  de  tollar  in  and  say  not- 
tings  and  nebber  say  nottings — you  remember 
dat?" 

"  O,  yes,  yes !     That  is  so,  Mr.  Alden." 

"  I  didn't  put  de  tollar  in,  Mishter  Alden. 
Bob  didn't  shteal.  Mary,  she  put  de  tollar  in." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  old  bald-headed  clerk, 
"  things  happen  queerly  in  this  world.  Guess 
Mary  didn't  know  that  dollar  was  making  so 
much  trouble." 

"  Why,  no,  Mr.  Alden,  I  didn't  know  what  it 
was  that  made  the  trouble ;  and  there  I  was  go- 
ing round  trying  to  comfort  Alma!  And  I 
felt  I  must  keep  my  word  not  to  tell  about  the 
dollar,  you  know.  Must  keep  my  word ! " 

Mary's  eyes  were  snapping,  Charlie  Haber- 
mann's  face  was  joyfully  beaming,  and  Thomas 
Alden  looked  on  with  sincere  satisfaction. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  was  making  trouble  and  didn't 
know  it,"  said  Mary. 

"  You  might  shay  I  made  it,"  affirmed  Charlie. 


328  SAILOE-BOY  BOB. 

"  No,  Mishter  Alden,  I  tell  you  what  made  de 
trouble  ;  trink  made  it.  If  dat  young  man  bad 
been  in  bis  senshes,  he  what  traded  his  tollar  wid 
me,  he  would  have  remembered  where  it  went. 
No,  it  was  de  rume  dat  did  it." 

That  seemed  to  lift  responsibility  from  Mary 
as  well  as  Charlie;  it  was  "rume"  that  did  it — 
"rume,"  whose  fiery  bondage  does  so  much  mis- 
chief, ever  making  the  innocent  suffer  with  the 
guilty,  and  sometimes  for  them. 

Of  course,  Steve  Wyckham  was  confounded, 
when  he  came  to  see,  in  behalf  of  Bob's  inno- 
cence, evidence  that  could  not  be  overturned. 
He  tried  to  load  some  of  the  blame  on  "  Jim 
Solus,"  whose  memory  had  been  faulty  when  he 
tried  to  enlighten  Bob. 

As  for  Bob,  he  was  delighted  with  the  news 
and  speedily  wrent  into  the  old  Winthrop  office 
as  Thomas  Alden's  office-clerk.  Father  Walker 
declared,  "  Since  Bob  is  a  Winthrop,  it  is  con- 
tinuing the  business  in  the  hands  of  the  family. 
That  is  what  the  Squire  wanted." 

Alma  also  had  her  deep  draft  of  satisfaction 
after  the  opening  of  this  mystery  that  had  been 
like  a  sealed  fountain.  The  portrait  in  the  hall 
alone  looked  unhappy.  It  still  scowled,  and 


ASSAULT  ONE.  329 

threatened,  and  seemed  to  say,  "  You  don't  be- 
long here  ;  I  do." 

"  We  are  happy,"  said  Ralph  Winthrop,  who 
came  to  the  house  to  rejoice  with  the  Walkers, 
"but  that  portrait" — he  pointed  toward  it — 
"doesn't  seem  to  feel  that  way.  It  seems  to 
shake  its  head  at  me." 

Ralph  soon  found  out  that  trouble  was  press- 
ing hard  on  his  heels,  and  Steve  Wyckham  was 
the  bull-dog  that  was  pursuing  Ralph  and  sav- 
agely barking. 


y 

330  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

CLIMBING  A  GENEALOGICAL  TREE. 

'k  "\7"OU  see,  Ralph,"  observed  Mr.  Hatch,  a 

JL  keen-eyed  lawyer  with  full,  sympathetic 
voice,  "  I  thought  we  could  talk  things  over  in 
my  office  better  than  anywhere  else." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Ralph,  looking  round  on 
the  room.  It  had  a  shut-in  look,  the  long,  nar- 
row windows  being  half  hidden  by  the  encroach- 
ing book-shelves. 

"  Well,  hem — m — m !  It  is  about  your 
grandfather's  will,  of  which  I  am  the  custodian. 
Of  course,  you  know  that  he  is  not  just  your 
grandfather." 

"  O,  yes,  sir,  I  understand  that.  I  am  a  dis- 
tant relative,  and  called  him  grandfather  for  the 
sake  of  convenience.  I  have  been  living  with 
him  a  long  time.  He  was  the  same  as  a  grand- 
father to  me." 

"  Yes,  I  saw  that,  and  he  intended  to  make  a 
new  will  and  mention  you  definitely  in  his  be- 
quests. I  say  that  he  intended  to  do  it,  for  he 


CLIMBING  A  GENEALOGICAL  TKEE.       331 

told  me  what  was  in  his  mind,  and  the  very  day 
we  found  him  dead  I  expected  to  make  that 
new  will.  As  it  is,  he  left  nothing  but  a  will 
twelve  years  old,  and  of  which  I  have  been  the 
keeper  ever  since  his  health  was  so  feeble.  In 
that  he  remembers  his  housekeeper,  his  church, 
his  town — good  idea,  you  know,  to  remember 
Church  and  State,  for  it  shows  a  man  to  be  ap- 
preciative of  those  conditions  which — which — " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Kalph. 

"Which  have  helped  make  him.  Then  he 
left  the  rest  of  his  property  to  be  divided  among 
his  relatives.  He  had  few  relatives  living.  He 
specified  the  children  of  your  real  grandfather, 
one  such  heir  being  your  father.  The  latter  has 
since  died  ;  his  brother  and  sister,  who  were  un- 
married, have  died  also,  and  you  are  the  descend- 
ant in  that  branch  now  living.  The  squire  in  a 
new  will  would  have  definitely  mentioned  you 
and  others,  but  you  know  that  some  people  dislike 
very  much  to  distribute  their  property.  They 
would  rather  leave  it  to  the  provisions  of  the 
law  made  for  all  such  cases.  So  you  see  you  are 
not  mentioned  in  that  old  will,  made  out  only  a 
month  before  you  came  into  the  squire's  home. 
However,  he  intended  to  give  you  *  the  brick 


332  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

block,'  and  in  a  new  will  it  would  have  been 
so  assigned.  In  a  new  will  he  would  have 
mentioned  other  heirs.  Can  you  imagine 
whom  2 " 

"  Bob  Walker  says  he  has  Winthrop  blood  in 
him,  and  I  hope  it  is  true." 

"  He  is  right.  No  doubt  about  it.  The 
Walkers  would  have  been  specified  in  the  new 
will.  You  see,  the  squire's  father,  John,  an 
opinionated  kind  of  old  fellow,  insisted  upon  it 
that  the  Walkers  were  not  connected  with  the 
Winthrops;  that  a  certain  asserted  marriage 
whereby  they — the  Walkers — came  into  the  line, 
or,  as  you  might  say,  were  grafted  upon  the 
farnily  tree,  was  not  legal.  Old  John  always 
meant  to  do  the  fair  thing,  but  he  was  a  very 
set  man,  and  he  could  not  seem  to  see  that  a 
Walker  was  a  Winthrop.  His  son  had  his  fa- 
ther's prejudice,  but  in  a  singular  way  Sardinius 
Walker  came  across  an  old  Winthrop  genealogy, 
and  the  squire  hired  him  to  copy  it.  In  that 
copy  the  squire  saw  evidence  that  a  Walker 
was  a  Winthrop,  and  he  acknowledged  it  to  Sar- 
dinius, and  in  the  new  will,  doubtless,  they 
would  have  all  been  mentioned.  He  thought  a 
good  deal  of  the  Walkers,  especially  Alma,  and, 


CLIMBING  A  GENEALOGICAL  TREE.      333 

feeling  that  they  were  his  kin  really,  helped 
them. 

"  As  it  is,  there  is  only  this  old  will,  in  which 
the  intention  was  to  remember  all  legal  heirs,  I 
believe;  and  I  must  take  the  will  to  the  court 
whose  duty  it  is  to  look  after  estates,  and  it  will 
do  the  right  thing  and  distribute  the  property." 

"  Well,  sir,  that  is  agreeable  to  me.  It  is  more 
than  I  deserve." 

"  Only,  the  brick  block  you  can't  claim." 

"  O,  sir,  I  am  not  particular.  I  am  very  glad 
the  Walkers  are  heirs." 

"  So  am  I.  It  was  a  good  thing  Sardinius 
Walker  did  when  he  found  and  copied  the  old 
genealogy.  Shows  when  a  man  is  sick  he  may 
yet  be  good  for  something.  The  Walkers  are 
very  worthy  people." 

".Yes,  sir.    Bob's  a  particular  friend  of  mine." 

"  That  Alma  is  a  beautiful  girl,"  said  the 
lawyer. 

Kalph  did  not  say  any  thing,  but  coughed 
abruptly  and  changed  the  subject. 

"  Shall  I  tell  the  Walkers  ? "  Ralph  asked. 

"  Tell  them  what  ?  I  was  speaking  about 
Alma — nice  girl,  you  know." 

Ralph  blushed  and  coughed  again. 


334:  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  I  mean,  sir — the  will,  sir." 

"  O,  about  the  will,  Ralph  ?  I  told  Sardinius 
a  little — just  gave  him  a  hint — yesterday,  but 
you  can  tell  all  that  I  have  told  you,  if  you  wish. 
I  have  had  no  good  opportunity  to  see  any  of 
the  Walkers,  and  you  can  tell  all  you  know 
about  the  affair.  Say  also  that  I  shall  see 
them." 

Ralph  made  haste  to  discharge  this  agreeable 
duty,  and  it  occasioned  a  jubilee  at  the  Walker 
home.  When  he  had  gone,  Billy  remarked  : 

"  Too  bad  Ralph  loses  the  brick  block  !  " 

"  I  expect  Alma  will  make  that  all  right," 
observed  Ted. 

"  No,"  said  Billy,  "  I  don't  believe  she  would 
do  any  thing  for  him.  She — " 

"  Now,  young  people,"  said  Alma  energetic- 
ally, at  the  same  time  letting  a  rich  screen  of 
curls  fall  over  her  face,  "  there  is  to  be  no  self- 
ishness in  this  family — " 

"  She  would  give  it  all  to  him,"  shouted 
Billy. 

"  I  am  going  to  give  you — leave  to  go  out  of 
this  room.  I  have  a  job  ;  that  is  what  I  was 
going  to  say.  I  want  to  clear  up  my  room, 
dust  and  clean  it,  and  so  on  ;  and  I  want  you 


CLIMBING  A  GENEALOGICAL  TREE. 

two  to  move  the  furniture  out  into  the  hall, 
please." 

The  two  boys  started  at  once  for  up-stairs. 
Alma  had  been  successful  in  inculcating  the  idea 
that  all  service  at  home  is  a  privilege,  to  be 
promptly,  not  hesitatingly,  accepted  and  dis- 
charged. 

"  Boys,"  called  out  Alma,  "  when  it  comes  to 
the  bureau  in  my  room,  take  out  the  drawers 
and  move  them  separately,  and  you  can  do  the 
whole  more  easily." 

Bob  still  lingered  with  Alma,  and  the  two 
talked  about  the  good  fortune  that  was  likely  to 
come  to  the  Walker  family. 

"  I  have  thought  of  one  thing,  Alma.  The 
old  will  left  by  Squire  Winthrop  gave  his  prop- 
erty to  relatives  now  dead,  intending  to  reach 
all  heirs,  and  Ralph  and  we  are  the  only  ones 
who  now  seem  to  be  in  existence  and  able  to 
claim  any  thing.  I  have  been  thinking  of  this 
possibility :  what  if  a  new  relative  should  turn 
up  ? " 

"  That  might  be  unfortunate  for  the  rest  of 
us,  Bob,  though  I  think  he  should  have  his 
share." 

"  O  yes,  of  course.     It  is  just  a  fancy  I  had." 


336  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Sometimes  "fancies"  turn  out  to  be  very 
hard,  obstinate  facts,  and  that  which  is  unlikely, 
only  possible,  becomes  the  actual.  The  next 
day  Mr.  Hatch  called,  and,  after  stating  more 
definitely  what  had  already  been  told  in  general 
by  Ralph,  said  : 

"  I — I  don't  wish  to  bring  any  bad  news,  but 
do  you  know  that  another  claimant  of  Squire 
"Winthrop's  property  has  turned  up  ? " 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Bob.  "  Alma  and  I  had 
that  thought  in  our  minds.  It  was  only  a 
thought,  as  people  are  apt  to  imagine  every 
thing  ;  but  you  say  it  is  really  so  ? " 

"  Really  so  ;  and  he  makes  a  big  grab.  If  he 
could  have  his  say,  he  would  take  three  quarters 
or  four  fifths  of  all  that  the  squire  left.  He 
especially  claims  the  land  on  which  the  brick 
block  rests." 

"  Does  Ralph  know  it  ? "  asked  Bob. 

"  Not  yet,"  said  Mr.  Hatch,  "  but  he  will  find 
out  soon.  I  thought  I  might  see  him  here.  To 
your  father  I  told  it  on  the  street.  Then  he 
claims  a  valuable  field  which  the  squire  really 
did  give  to  Ralph.  He  seems  to  be  aiming  at 
Ralph  especially." 

"  Why,  who  is  it  ? "  asked  Alma. 


CLIMBING  A  GENEALOGICAL  TREE.     337 

"He  writes  his  name  Stephen  Winthrop 
Wyckham." 

Alma  and  Bob  looked  at  one  another  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Bob.  "  Then  he  hasn't  got 
through  following  us !  He  is  the  one  who 
charged  me  with  theft." 

"  O,  that  the  one  ?  Then  he  does  not  seem 
like  one  who  would  be  very  likely  to  be  a  scru- 
pulous opponent.  I  want  to  get  information. 
I  want  to  get  hold  of  the  Winthrop  genealogy. 
This  fellow  claims  that  he  is  descended  from 
somebody  who  married  into  the  "Winthrop  fam- 
ily away  back — I  don't  know  how  far— and  he 
claims  land  to  right  and  left  as  one  of  the  de- 
scendants from  that  marriage,  and  he  wants  his 
share  of  the  other  property  in  buildings  and 
ships  any  way.  The  land — as  for  that,  he  says, 
it  was  illegally  wrested  by  one  of  the  Winthrops 
from  that  ancestor.  So  he  thinks  he  has  a 
double  claim.  You  see,  he  has  got  a  lawyer  who 
will  turn  over  every  stone  to  get  at  facts,  and — " 

"  Who  ? "  asked  Bob. 

"  Strappings." 

"  An  insurance  agent  ? " 

"  He  was  until  the  affair  of  the  Oaspwr.     The 
22 


338  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

company  felt  at  the  time  that  he  was  showing 
qualities  they  could  not  afford  to  give  wages  to. 
In  other  words,  it  was  hurting  them  to  keep  in 
their  employ  that  kind  of  a  character ;  and  he 
has  gone  back  to  the  law,  a  profession  which, 
unfortunately  for  the  rest  of  us,  he  studied  for, 
years  ago.  Now,  I  wonder  who  is  good  at 
climbing  genealogical  trees  ?  Who  can  get  up 
the  Winthrop  tree  and  overhaul  the  branches?" 

"  What  do  you  want  up  in  that  tree  ? "  asked 
Alma.  "  I  will  ask  father  to  step  in.  I  heard 
him  coming  in  from  the  street  just  now.  He 
has  been  climbing  the  tree." 

Sardinius  Walker  came  into  the  room,  bearing 
an  old  musty  volume,  in  response  to  that  request 
to  be  present. 

"  Squire  Hatch,  if  I  can  do  you  a  good  turn, 
I  will,"  said  the  bearer  of  the  records. 

"  It  will  be  a  good  turn  for  all  interested  in 
the  property,  and  especially  for  Ralph.  I  want 
to  find  out  about  John  Bevan.  Do  you  remem- 
ber seeing  any  thing  about  such  a  name  ?  This 
Stephen  Winthrop  Wyckham  I-  have  just  told 
the  young  people  about  claims  to  come  from 
him." 

"  John  Bevan  2  John  Bevan  ? "  said  the  man, 


CLIMBING  A  GENEALOGICAL  TREE.      339 

climbing  the  genealogical  tree  and  turning  over 
the  leaves  time  had  stained  and  dusted.  "  I 
have  seen  his  name." 

"  Have  you  ? "  said  the  lawyer  eagerly. 

"  Wait  a  minute,  sir.     "Wait,  Mr.  Hatch." 

"  This  John  Bevan  made  much  trouble  for 
the  Winthrop  family  when  he  was  alive.  He 
is  an  old  hand  at  making  trouble,  so  I  have 
heard.  What  have  you  got  ? "  asked  the 
lawyer. 

"  John  Bevan  !  "  said  Sardinius  Walker,  giv- 
ing his  information  like  a  judge  reading  a  law 
opinion.  "  John  Bevan  !  O,  here  he  is  !  Says 
John  Bevan  married  into  Simon  Winthrop's 
family,  but  it  doesn't  say  whom  he  married. 
Simon's  children  are  here — James,  his  wife  and 
children,  Joseph,  and  so  on.  Huldah,  she  mar- 
ried, but  it  does  not  say  whom.  Huldah  left 
no  children.  Very  imperfect  record  there." 

"  It  does  not  seem  very  complete,"  remarked 
the  lawyer,  looking  at  the  yellow,  discolored 
leaves.  "  This  is  the  old  genealogy.  The  copy 
you  made — " 

"  The  squire  took  it,  but  it  is  just  this,  you 
know,  and  I  was  sort  of  keeping  it  when  he 
died." 


34:0  SAILOE-BOT  BOB. 

"  Well,  from  this  it  seems  that  John  Bevan 
came  into  the  family,  married,  and  yet  it  does 
not  say  \vhorn." 

All  this  time  the  words  "  John  Bevan," 
"  John  Bevan,"  were  echoing  in  Alma's  ears. 

"  Where  have  I  seen  John  Sevan's  name  ? " 
she  thought.  "  O,  it  is  that  portrait ! " 

She  sprang  up  from  her  chair,  flew  into  the 
hall,  and  planted  herself  before  the  picture. 

"  John  Bevan,  I  want  information  about 
you  !  "  said  Alma. 

John  Bevan^  only  looked  over  his  shoulder 
and  scowled  as  usual,  saying,  "You  don't  belong 
here ;  I  do." 

Hark!  Alma's  brothers  in  the  upper  hall, 
who  had  been  taking  her  furniture  out  of  her 
room,  were  now  shouting  about  something. 

"J-o-h-n!"  said  Billy. 

"  That  spells  John,"  said  Ted. 

"B-e-v-a-n  ! "  again  called  off  Billy. 

"  That  is  '  Be-van,' "  affirmed  Ted. 

"  John  Bevan ! "  thought  Alma,  and  up  the 
broad  stair- way  she  raced. 

"  O,  boys,  what  have  you  got  ? " 

Ted  held  up  a  piece  of  very  aged  paper: 
"  We  found  it  in  your  drawer,  Alma." 


CLIMBING  A  GENEALOGICAL  TEEE.      3il 

"  O,  to  be  sure  ;  I  forgot  about  that !  Do 
let  me  see  !  J  John— Bevan— married— Huldah 
— Winthrop ! '  "  she  slowly  read. 

"Huldah  had  no  children,  the  genealogy 
says,"  thought  Alma,  and  then  she  went  like  a 
bird  down-stairs. 

"  O,  I  have  got  it ! "  Alma  shouted.  "  Every 
body,  come  here !  " 

She  reached  the  portrait,  and  there  she  halted, 
holding  up  the  slip  of  paper,  and  looking  toward 
the  picture. 

Ted  and  Billy  were  the  first  to  respond  to 
Alma's  invitation,  and  raced  down-stairs.  Out 
of  the  sitting-room  door  limped  Alma's  father. 
Bob  quickly  passed  his  father,  and  Mr.  Hatch 
and  Mrs.  Walker  made  as  good  speed  as  possi- 
ble, for  they  had  all  heard  Alma's  voice.  By 
the  picture  stood  Alma.  It  was  a  most  inter- 
esting scene.  That  old  figure  in  the  portrait 
was  frowning  at  this  young  girl  standing  tri- 
umphant, defiant,  holding  up  this  slip  of  paper. 
There  were  beauty  and  youth  and  truth  all  chal- 
lenging, "  You  are  an  old  deceiver.  You  have 
hung  on  that  wall  long  enough,  a  big  pretender. 
Your  race  died  with  you.  You  were  not  a 
"Winthrop  in  the  first  place.  You  gave  to  the 


34:2  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

world  none  of  that  name  or  any  name.  You  old 
impostor  !  come  down  !  " 

The  sun  just  then  entered  the  hall,  and  its 
golden  light  crowned  the  hair  of  Alma,  illumi- 
nated her  face,  and  made  an  aureole  investing 
all  her  form  whose  attitude  was  that  of  victory. 

"  That's  John  Bevan  !  "  said  Alma  decidedly. 

"  O  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Hatch.  "  The  old  pict- 
ure that  Squire  Winthrop  said  nobody  knew 
any  thing  about !  The  very  John  Bevan  I  want 
to  find  out  about ! " 

"  There  it  is,  sir !  This  fell  out  of  the  pict- 
ure one  night,  and  I  picked  it  up." 

She  handed  him  the  aged  slip. 

"  '  John  —  Bevan — married — Huldah — Win- 
throp ! '  "  slowly  read  the  lawyer.  "And  Hul- 
dah is  the  one  that  had  no  children.  Climbing 
the  genealogical  tree  brought  down  some  fruit. 
That  disposes  of  Stephen  Winthrop  Wyckham's 
claim.  End  of  that!" 

"  The  squire  seemed  to  think  it  was  probably 
somebody  in  the  family,  and  did  not  like  to  dis- 
turb the  picture.  The  family  seemed  to  think 
a  good  deal  of  it,"  observed  Sardinitis  Walker. 

"  Well,  there  are  many  old  humbugs  in  this 
world,  and  I  am  glad  the  nonsense  in  this  gas- 


CLIMBING  A  G-ENEALOGICAL  TREE.      343 

bag  has  been  pricked,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  I 
think  I  shall  have  to  take  the  picture  down  any 
way  from  the  wall,  and  ask  Miss  Alma  to  let  me 
have  that  bit  of  evidence  also  which  she  has  in 
her  hand.  I  want  to  lock  them  both  up — the 
picture  and  the  slip — with  her  permission,  for 
safe-keeping.  I  want  you  all  to  show  that  you 
are  good  at  keeping  a  secret,  and  please  say 
nothing  about  this.  I  think  when — when  I 
bring  this  picture  into  court,  and  this  added 
evidence,  it  will  make  an  interesting  scene  and 
story.  I  don't  want  Strippings  to  get  hold  of 
this,  but  will  lock  it  up." 

The  lawyer  prophesied  accurately.  The  pict- 
ure in  court,  the  evidence  of  Alma,  interested 
the  judge  and  every  body  else  exceedingly. 
Mr.  Hatch  also  had  on  hand  other  testimony 
about  Steve  of  a  damaging  nature,  but  Alma's 
story,  as  she  stood  in  her  beauty  beside  the  old 
picture,  was  the  feature  of  chief  interest.  Strip- 
pings  could  do  nothing.  The  case  went  against 
the  pretender.  The  old  portrait  never  went 
back  to  its  former  honorable  position,  but  was 
banished  to  a  dark  hole  in  the  garret.  There  it 
sulked  in  the  gloom,  but  nobody  cared.  The 
one  least  mindful  was  the  young  lady  that  the 


344  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

portrait  had  frowned  upon  as  if  she  had  no 
place  in  the  "Winthrop  line,  and  if  she  had, 
would  only  bring  disgrace  to  it.  Ah !  the 
beautiful  Alma  only  brought  honor  to  the  name 
of  Winthrop,  though  she  did  overwhelm  with 
shame  the  name  of  Wyckham,  and,  by  way  of 
association,  that  of  Be  van.  An  impostor  was 
routed  from  the  hall  where  he  had  reigned 
like  a  rightful  king.  In  the  old  house  Alma 
and  her  kin  remained,  and  when  the  squire's 
property  was  distributed  they  were  generously 
remembered. 


GOOD  TO  BETTEB,  BAD  TO  WOKSE.      345 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

FROM  GOOD  TO  BETTER,  FROM  BAD  TO  WORSE. 

/CHARACTER  does  not  remain  stationary. 
\J  To  one  desirous  of  improvement  it  may 
seem  as  if  he  were  making  very  slow  progress, 
but  some  progress  he  must  make.  If  he  have 
the  better  desire,  he  will  surely  strengthen  some 
good  impulses,  and  weaken  others  that  are  wrong. 
If  one  lack  the  better  desire,  it  may  seem  to 
him  as  if  he  could  not  be  making  fast  prog- 
ress in  evil,  but  some  advance  in  the  wrong  di- 
rection he  will  make.  The  latter  development 
is  inevitable,  as  much  as  the  growth  of  a  poison- 
plant  that  is  unchecked,  but  is  allowed  to  re- 
ceive daily  baths  of  sunshine  and  nightly  baths 
of  dew.  Two  sets  of  people  illustrated  the 
above  principle.  On  one  side  was  Bob.  He 
had  come  already  out  into  the  light  of  the 
Saviour's  presence,  and  could  say  that  he  was 
Christ's  and  Christ  was  his.  Ralph,  too,  was 
on  that  side.  The  disposition  of  the  squire's 
property  had  been  so  arranged  that  Ralph  was 


34:6  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

now  in  possession  of  "  the  brick  block,"  but 
Ralph's  desires  did  not  strengthen  in  the  direc- 
tion of  money-getting.  The  question  looming 
up  into  ever  greater  prominence  before  him  was 
whether  he  ought  not  to  give  himself  to  the 
ministry  of  Christ. 

Alma  and  others  were  on  the  same  side  as  Bob 
and  Ralph,  but  in  none  was  the  fact  of  a  right 
development  more  strongly  emphasized  than  in 
the  case  of  Horace  Haviland.  As  his  mother 
was  growing  infirm,  he  concluded  to  remain  at 
home,  and  found  steady  employment  in  one  of 
the  fish-houses  down  by  the  wharves.  He  knew 
his  weakness. 

"  Awful  weak,"  he  would  say,  "  but  I'm  just 
looking  up.  My  strength  is  all  above  me." 

So  Horace  held  to  the  way  of  right-doing, 
and  his  walk  in  it  was  more  assured.  His  sister 
believed  the  world  would  yet  see  what  a  great 
hero  was  hidden  in  her  brother. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  were  those  illustrat- 
ing the  fact  of  the  continuous  development  of  a 
character  surrendering  itself  to  its  evil  impulses. 
Steve  Wyckham  grew  more  grasping,  envious, 
selfish,  malicious.  At  times,  his  evil  face  would 
be  seen  in  Oldburyport,  and  yet  his  form  never 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.       347 

shadowed  the  threshold  of  the  door  of  any 
relatives.  They  did  not  care  to  see  Steve. 
Another  evil  nature  asserting  itself  more  posi- 
tively was  that  of  Strippings.  His  failure  to  seat 
Steve  in  the  Winthrop  chair  of  possession  was 
a  bitter  defeat  to  him.  For  some  reason  Steve 
had  an  idea  that  Ralph  might  have  helped  him 
assert  a  good  claim  to  participation  in  the  Win- 
throp estate.  He  had  sent  a  mysterious  letter 
to  Ralph  hinting  at  a  "union  of  interests,"  and 
Ralph  pitched  the  letter  into  the  fire.  Steve 
vowed  he  would  make  Ralph  "  smart  for  such 
treatment." 

Another  year  went  by.  Summer  passed  away. 
As  the  months  moved  on  and  brought  the  world 
into  the  midst  of  snow-drifts  below  and  the 
flaming  Northern  Lights  above,  it  brought  Christ- 
mas also.  Heaven  seemed  to  descend,  and 
where  it  touched  the  earth  it  left  the  golden 
foot-print  of  Bethlehem.  Our  young  people  in 
the  Walker  and  Winthrop  circle  yielded  them- 
^selves  to  the  gracious  influences  coming  down 
out  of  the  skies.  It  brought  to  Bob  a  new  idea 
of  God's  mercy,  God's  pity,  God's  interest  in 
humanity,  set  forth  in  the  human  history  of  our 
Saviour.  Bob's  trust  in  God  grew  under  the 


34-8  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

stimulus  of  these  thoughts,  and  his  sense  of  ob- 
ligation was  sharpened  also.  He  stood  up  in 
the  old  church  at  home  this  Christmas-tide,  and 
confessed  Christ  as  his  Saviour.  Ralph,  too,  was 
influenced  by  the  beautiful  memorial  season,  and 
he  told  his  friends  of  his  purpose,  now  matured, 
to  consecrate  himself  to  the  ministry  of  Christ. 
Horace  Haviland  had  a  fresh  conception  of  the 
significance  of  Christ's  mission :  that  it  not  only 
meant  a  cross  for  that  Saviour,  but  for  all  the 
world,  and  for  Horace  Haviland.  The  very 
symbol  of  the  cross  affected  him  as  never  before. 

"  That  is  the  sign,1'  he  said  to  himself  more 
than  once,  "  of  what  Christ  did  for  me,  my  hope 
and  my  life,  and  I've  got  a  cross  to  carry.  I've 
got  to  deny  myself." 

How  Christmas  affected  other  persons  in  this 
story — Steve  and  his  lawyer,  Stripping! — we 
shall  see. 

It  was  a  week  after  Christmas  when  Horace 
Haviland  met  a  tempter.  It  was  outside  the 
door  of  a  place  where  the  chief  tempter  is  apt 
to  have  his  head-quarters,  a  rum-saloon. 

"  Horace,"  said  some  one,  using  the  blandest, 
most  cordial  tones,  "  where  have  you  been,  old 
feller  ?  I  have  missed  you  a  long  time  ! " 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.     349 

"  Why,"  continued  this  ardent  acquaintance, 
"  I  have  really  missed  you." 

It  was  Steve  Wyckham.  He  had  not  been  in 
Oldburyport  recently. 

"  O,  I've  been  round  same  as  ever,"  replied 
Horace. 

"  You  look  cold — nipped,  in  fact.  This  winter 
weather  doesn't  agree  with  you.  Now  you  want 
something  warm,  I  know." 

"  No,  I  thank  you." 

"  Come  in,  come  in  !  I  don't  mean  any  thing 
strong,  but  just  coffee — coffee  and  oysters,  say. 
Fact  is,  I  have  a  job  for  you,  and  you  can  make 
a  lot  of  money  out  of  it.  Come,  we  will  talk  it 
over.  Coffee  and  oysters,  why,  that  will  cheer 
us  both  up  !  " 

u  Well-1,"  said  Horace  irresolutely,  "  no  harm 
in  that." 

He  knew  that  there  was  harm  in  stepping 
within  a  circle  of  temptation. 

"  Of  course  not !  No  harm  !  Come  along  ! " 
said  Steve. 

Steve  took  Horace  by  the  arm  and  drew  him 
into  the  saloon. 

"  Coffee  and  oysters  for  two ! "  he  shouted, 
motioning  Horace  into  a  little  retreat  partitioned 


350  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

off  from  the  main  saloon  by  a  red  curtain. 
Steve  stepped  to  the  clerk  behind  the  counter, 
whispered  a  word  or  two,  and  came  back  to 
Horace.  When  the  coffee  arrived,  Horace  no- 
ticed at  once  its  peculiar  flavor.  It  was  not  at 
all  disagreeable  to  him,  but  the  very  opposite. 

"  Coffee  tastes  good,  Steve." 

"  Ha-ha  !     Of  course  it  does." 

"And  that  job!" 

"  O,  I  will  tell  you.     Drink  away  ! " 

Horace  knew  that  he  had  done  wrong  in  vent- 
uring into  such  a  place,  and  conscience  was  un- 
easy. Then  the  flavor  of  that  coffee  ;  it  was 
satisfactory  to  an  old  craving,  and  for  that  very 
reason  unsatisfactoiy  to  conscience.  He  said 
suddenly  to  himself,  "  Brandy  in  that  ?  "  He 
looked  at  Steve. 

"What— what!"  he  muttered.  "What  is 
that,  Steve  ? " 

"  All  right ! "  asserted  Steve.  "  We  will  have 
some  more,  and  oysters  hot,  too.  You  look  like 
a  tired,  hungry  man.  You  ought  by  good 
rights  to  take  something  stronger.  O,  about 
that  job !  And  let  us  have  something  really 
warming,  just  as  medicine.  It  is  all  right  as 
medicine." 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.     351 

How  many  people  have  gone  wrong,  gone  to 
ruin,  on  that  medicine-track  ! 

In  that  moment  Horace  felt  weak  as  a  child. 
He  had  suddenly  come  before  a  pit.  open  and 
filled  with  hot  flame,  and  into  it  were  going  all 
his  good  purposes,  his  prayers,  his  past  victo- 
rious record,  to  be  seized,  consumed,  destroyed. 
His  old  mother's  entreaties  to  him  to  be  firm, 
and  Mary's  fond  encouragement,  were  going  into 
the  same  furnace.  The  hour  threatened  to  be 
fatal.  Suddenly  he  looked  at  the  wall  opposite 
him.  A  bracket  projected  from  this  wall,  car- 
rying an  ornament,  and  the  lines  of  its  shadow 
made  the  form  of  a  cross.  It  was  accidental, 
for  the  saloon-keeper Vould  have  forever  pre- 
vented its  occurrence  had  he  known  it.  Horace 
saw  that  humble  but  powerful  sign.  If  the 
cross  had  been  lifted,  if  it  had  become  a  ham- 
mer and  had  smitten  Horace,  he  could  not  have 
been  more  deeply  affected.  He  was  smitten, 
but  it  was  love's  gentle  stroke  upon  his  con- 
science, and  that  kind  of  blow  is  harder  than 
any  by  hammer  of  iron. 

"  How  much  of  a  cross  am  /  carrying  ? "  he 
thought.  "  Where  is  my  self-denial  ?  What 
did  my  Saviour  carry  for  me  ? " 


352  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  set  down  his  cup 
so  violently  that  the  jar  threatened  to  break  it. 
He  rushed  out  of  the  saloon. 

"  Where — where — going  ? "  asked  the  sur- 
prised Steve.  "  That  job — you — know ! " 

He  followed  Horace  to  the  door.  Surprise 
was  turning  to  anger. 

"  Come  back  !  Don't  be  a  fool !  "  shouted 
Steve. 

Horace  did  not  heed  him.  He  rushed  on, 
turned  a  corner,  and  shrank  into  a  little  alley, 
and  there,  behind  the  projection  of  a  brick  wall 
secluding  him  from  the  notice  of  any  passer-by, 
he  knelt  on  the  snow,  which  became  his  cushion, 
and,  lifting  his  clasped  hands  to  God,  sobbed, 
"  O,  my  Father,  don't  leave  me  !  Don't  leave 
me ! " 

How  long  he  stayed,  he  knew  not.  "When  he 
had  risen  from  his  knees,  he  hurried  home  as 
rapidly  as  possible.  Horace  Haviland  was  noto- 
rious for  his  physical  strength,  but  he  crept  into 
the  house  feeling  weak  as  a  little  child.  When 
he  went  out  again,  he  did  not  venture  near  that 
saloon. 

u  Where  is  Horace  ? "  wondered  his  sister 
Mary,  the  next  evening  about  nine.  "  He  ought 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.     353 

to  be  home  by  this  time.  Horace  is  prompt, 
you  know." 

"  O,"  said  her  calmer  mother,  knitting  away 
in  her  corner,  "  he  has  gone  to  meetin',  may  be. 
He  will  turn  up  in  good  order." 

Mary  listened  keenly  for  her  brother's  step. 
She  heard  instead  a  warning  bell-note,  and  then 
an  excited  cry  out  in  the  street. 

"  Mother,  that  is  fire ! "  said  Mary  nerv- 
ously. 

Yes,  above  the  house-roofs  rolled  the  round, 
heavy  notes  of  a  fire-bell,  and  out  in  the  street 
echoe'd  those  sharp,  warning  tones  that  never 
need  an  explanation,  but  awaken  alarm  whenever 
heard. 

"  Fire-r-r  !     Fire-r-r ! " 

"  Where  is  it  ? "  asked  Mary,  hurrying  to  the 
door  and  questioning  a  self-appointed  herald  of 
disaster. 

"  The  brick  block  !  Fire-r-r !  Fire-r-r  ! "  an- 
swered somebody. 

Down  the  snow-heaped  street  ran  the  messen- 
ger of  evil,  at  almost  every  step  hearing  an  echo 
to  his  cry  in  the  cry  of  another. 

"  There,  mother,  Horace  has  gone  to  the  fire ! 

He  is  a  fireman,  you  know.     That  is  where  he 
23 


354  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

is,"  said  Mary,  returning  to  the  snug,  warm  lit- 
tle kitchen. 

"  Where  is  the  fire,  Mary  ? " 

"In  the  brick  block,  mother — the  Winthrop 
block,  you  know.  Only  think  of  it !  " 

"  In  the  brick  block  ? "  said  her  mother  calm- 
ly, almost  contentedly.  The  fire  must  be  some- 
where, and  why  not  in  the  brick  block  ?  Old 
age  is  said  to  take  life's  mishaps  in  a  mood 
calmer  than  that  of  younger  years,  and  does — 
sometimes. 

The  bell-booming  went  on,  the  cries  also  of 
the  fire-heralds.  Mary  stood  all  this  as  long  as 
possible,  and  then  said  : 

"  There,  mother,  I  can't  seem  to  stand  it ! 
Could — could — you  spare  me  if  I  go  to  the 
corner  ? " 

From  "  the  corner "  of  an  adjoining  street 
the  brick  block  could  easily  be  seen,  all  its  long 
front,  the  stores  below,  the  offices  and  hall 
above. 

"  Spare  you  ? "  replied  old  age.  "  O  yes  ! " 
and  Mary's  mother  went  on  knitting,  quite  recon- 
ciled to  the  fact  that,  if  a  fire  must  be  somewhere, 
it  had  better  be  in  the  brick  block  than  in  many 
other  places.  Why  should  not  Mary  go  ?  She 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.      355 

was  young — only  forty — and  youth  that  likes 
fires  might  to  be  indulged. 

"  Yes,  you  may  go,  Mary." 

This  excitable  young  female  left  old  age  very 
contentedly  knitting  in  the  corner  that  to  her 
was  a  harbor  of  refuge  from  many  storms. 

The  janitor  of  the  brick  block  was  in  the 
habit  of  closing  every  thing  above  the  first  story 
by  six,  whenever  the  big  hall  in  the  building 
would  not  be  needed  that  evening.  Did  he  see 
any  one  stealing  into  Room  Sixteen,  an  empty 
office,  about  half  after  five  ?  This  intruder  had 
come  from  a  rum-saloon,  in  itself  a  very  sus- 
picious fact.  The  janitor,  though,  did  not  no- 
tice any  such  entrance.  At  his  hour  for  closing, 
he  came  to  the  door  of  this  room  and  said,  "  I 
wonder  how  long  '  Sixteen'  will  be  empty  !  It 
is  lonesome  in  there.  Don't  like  to  have  it  so 
empty." 

All  the  while,  in  a  closet  of  this  office  crouched 
a  man.  He  was  so  fearful  that  in  some  way  he 
might  excite  attention,  he  scarcely  breathed. 

"  Empty  ! "  said  the  janitor  softly,  turning 
the  key  in  the  door.  The  janitor  locked  other 
offices  and  the  big  hall  itself,  and  then  went 
down-stairs  to  the  entrance-door,  closed  and 


356  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

locked  that.  There  was  another  door,  a  small 
one  in  the  rear  of  the  building,  by  which  the 
hall  and  offices  could  be  reached.  It  closed  with 
a  spring,  and  on  the  inside  could  be  opened 
without  a  key. 

The  man  who  was  crouching  in  that  dark 
closet  of  Room  Sixteen  expected  to  leave  the 
building  by  this  small  door  in  the  rear.  His 
expectations  were  not  realized.  When  he  had 
reason  to  conclude  that  the  janitor  was  out- 
side the  building,  he  softly  opened  the  closet 
door,  stepped  out  into  the  empty  room,  and 
went  to  a  window.  This  looked  down  into  the 
street,  where  the  lights  in  the  shop-windows 
were  already  flashing.  The  man  could  see  the 
dark  forms  of  people  hurrying  past  these  lighted 
windows,  and  he  said,  "  I  will  give  people  in  the 
street  something  unusual  to  think  about  soon. 
I  will  give  the  owner  something  to  think  about. 
The  insurance  on  this  block  has  run  out  and  not 
been  renewed.  What  is  left  standing  by  twelve 
o'clock  to-night  won't  be  worth  much." 

He  returned  to  the  closet.  He  opened  a  trav- 
eling-bag filled  with  combustibles.  With  ham- 
mer and  chisel  he  broke  as  gently  as  possible  a 
hole  in  the  plastering  above  a  shelf,  and  there 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.     357 

started  a  fire.  The  mischievous  flames  darted 
into  the  space  in  the  rear  of  the  hole.  It  was 
directly  under  a  stair-way.  Here  was  a  very 
strong  draft,  and  the  space  under  the  stair-way 
communicated  with  two  other  flights  above. 
The  flames  with  swift  red  feet  climbed  the 
rounds  of  this  long,  secret  ladder. 

"  Now  I  will  go,"  said  the  incendiary.  "  The 
alarm  will  soon  be  given." 

Kubbing  his  hands,  chuckling  away,  exulting 
over  the  people's  wonder  when  they  saw  the 
flames  breaking  out  of  the  doomed  building,  he 
went  to  the  office  door  and  laid  his  hand  on  the 
door-knob,  that  he  might  turn  it  and  pass  out. 
He  could  turn  the  knob,  but  could  not  open  the 
door !  It  was  locked  firmly.  An  exclamation  of 
disappointment  accompanied  by  an  oath  broke 
from  his  lips.  He  pulled  on  the  door-knob.  To 
his  increased  disgust  the  knob  came  off. 

"  However,"  he  said,  "  I  am  not  to  be  balked 
this  way.  I  will  pry  the  thing  open.  How  this 
smoke  pours  out !  " 

The  room  was  filled  with  smoke,  and  he 
could  hear  the  crackling  of  the  flames,  and  hark ! 
"  Fire-r-r ! "  "  Fire-r-r- ! "  was  the  alarm  soon 
echoing  out  in  the  street. 


358  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

He  went  to  work  on  the  door  more  anxiously, 
pushing,  tugging,  straining,  trying  to  get  a 
chisel  under  the  door  and  at  the  side  of  the 
door,  and  in  some  way  wrench  it  open.  It  was 
a  heavy  door,  for  the  room  had  once  been  used 
as  a  banking-office. 

He  thought  of  a  hammer  he  had  in  his  bao-, 

•  o  o/ 

and  amid  the  thickening,  suffocating  smoke,  he 
swung  this  hammer  against  the  panels  of  the 
door.  He  could  hear  the  echoes  of  his  blows, 
as,  like  a  madman,  he  drove  his  hammer  against 
the  thick  panels.  It  was  of  no  use.  Outside, 
he  heard  an  increasing  tumult.  People,  in  the 
absence  of  the  janitor  with  the  keys,  were  try- 
ing the  door  leading  up  to  the  offices  and 
hall,  furiously  banging  away  on  the  wooden 
barrier. 

What  if  they  got  in,  and  found  him  and  his 
bag  in  this  empty  office  ?  What  could  he  say  ? 
He  stopped  pounding. 

Ah  !  they  had  got  in  somehow,  and  were  rush- 
ing into  the  building  to  drag  out  of  the  offices 
their  furniture,  provided  they  could  reach  all  of^ 
the  rooms.  Would  some  one  say,  "There  is, 
perhaps,  some  valued  piece  of  furniture  in  '  Six- 
teen ! '  Have  it  out  ? "  What  if  they  came, 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.      859 

and  "  it "  slionld  turn*  out  to  be  an  incendiary  ! 
Should  this  "valued  piece  of  furniture"  meet 
them,  hammer  in  hand,  and  drive  them  back? 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  feel  along  the  walls, 
find  a  nail  that  might  have  been  driven  there, 
wrench  it  out,  and  then  nail  up  the  door  that 
they  might  not  get  in  ?  But  could  he  stay,  this 
man  that  did  not  dare  to  go  out  ?  The  smoke 
was  so  suffocating  that  he  was  obliged  to  drop 
on  his  hands  and  knees,  and  breathe  close  to  the 
floor.  He  crawled  to  a  window  somehow,  man- 
aged to  raise  it,  and  O,  how  grateful  was  the 
current  of  pure,  cold  air  that  came  streaming 
into  this  room  like  a  furnace !  The  device  that 
gave  him  a  chance  to  breathe  told  him  also  how 
great  the  excitement  was  outside. 

"  There  are  the  engines ! "  he  said.  "  How 
the  men  shout !  " 

He  might  have  added,  "  Here  comes  the 
water !"  for  a  gush  from  a  hose-pipe,  directed 
against  an  upper  story,  missed  its  aim  and  came 
under  the  window-sash  he  had  raised,  drenching 
his  face.  Were  those  outside  trying  to  beat 
him  back  into  the  fire  that  was  steadily  rushing 
toward  him?  Must  he  roast  in  that  furnace? 
The  thought  was  terrible  to  him.  The  closet 


360  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

full  of  flame  was  discharging  its  surplus  fire 
into  the  office.  Was  there  no  escape  for  him  ? 
Was  that  the  end  of  evil-doers,  to  be  caught  and 
destroyed  in  the  flames  they  themselves  had 
kindled  ?  He  did  not  give  the  thought  much 
room  in  his  mind,  but  he  could  not  help  its  en- 
trance. Should  he  show  himself  at  the  window 
and  entreat  those  without  to  save  him  ?  "Who 
would  be  friendly  to  the  incendiary  ?  Should 
he  go  back  to  the  door  and  pound  on  it  again, 
hoping  he  might  be  heard  ?  He  did  not  know 
as  he  could  reach  it.  If  he  reached  it,  he  did  not 
know  as  any  body  was  in  the  corridor  to  rescue 
him ;  all  that  he  could  hear  now  was  the  crack- 
ling of  the  flames — and  how  thick  the  smoke 
was !  Come  what  might,  he  must  have  air,  he 
must  have  life.  He  raised  the  window  all  that 
was  possible. 

"  Fire-r-r ! "  rang  the  alarm-cry,  while  the  bells 
boomed,  the  engineers  shouted  their  orders,  and 
the  streams  of  water  from  the  pipes  fell  with  a 
crash  on  the  building.  That  which  gave  life  to 
the  incendiary  gave  life  to  the  flames,  for,  fed 
by  the  inrushing  current  of  air,  the  fire  crackled 
and  blazed  with  startling  intensity.  Under  that 
opened  window,  crouching  below  its  sill  so  that 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.     361 

people  could  not  see  his  head,  was  that  agonized 
wretch.  What  would  he  do? 

The  fireman  saw  that  window  opened  so 
strangely,  and  a  heavy  stream  of  water  now 
came  crashing  into  the  room.  He  incau- 
tiously raised  his  head,  and  a  blow  from  the 
water  almost  stunned  him.  It  was  now  a  fight 

o 

there  at  the  window  between  the  water  and 
the  fire,  and  in  the  center  of  the  battle  was  that 
man  in  agony.  It  was  hard  to  say  which  was 
the  worse,  the  fire  that  was  roasting  him  or  the 
icy  water  of  winter  that  was  freezing  him.  For 
awhile  the  water  was  victor,  and  the  fire  seemed 
to  retreat,  but  that  was  only  in  the  center  of  the 
room  opposite  the  window.  The  fire,  now  on 
both  sides,  grew  hotter,  the  smoke  more  stifling, 
and  then  the  flames  rushed  for  the  open  window 
where  their  author  was  in  one  suffocating,  con- 
suming cloud  which  the  water  might  pierce  but 
could  not  conquer.  Finally,  the  crowds  of  peo- 
ple below,  the  hundreds  of  eager  spectators 
were  horrified  to  see  a  form  wriggling,  strug- 
gling, fighting  its  way  out  of  that  furnace-door 
through  the  volume  of  water  pouring  in  stead- 
ily. The  hosemen  under  that  window  did  not 
at  first  -notice  these  struggles. 


SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

"  Hold  there  1 "  shouted  an  engineer  to  the 
hose-men  drenching  that  window. 

"  Stop  your  playing !  "  "  Give  over !  "  What 
you  up  to  ?  Don't  drown  a  man  1 "  "  Give 
him  a  chance ! "  were  the  outcries  from  the 
spectators. 

The  hose-men  ceased  to  play  at  the  window, 
and,  unmolested,  the  man  climbed  out  of  the  win- 
dow and  hung  by  his  hands  from  the  sill.  The 
instinct  to  save  life  somehow,  anyhow,  was  so 
strong  that  he  was  willing  to  take  this  serious 
risk.  A  shiver  of  horror  went  through  the 
crowd,  as  when  the  breath  of  a  rough  blast 
sweeps  across  and  ruffles  the  surface  of  a  pond. 
The  block  was  a  tall  one.  This  window  was  in 
the  third  story.  The  man,  if  he  dropped,  would 
fall  directly  upon  a  pavement  of  flagging-stone. 
How  much  longer  could  he  cling  to  the  window- 
sill? 

Various  expedients  were  suggested.  Before 
they  could  be  tried,  the  man  might  be  in  eter- 
nity. Mary  Haviland  saw  all  that  was  actually 
attempted.  She  ,saw  two  men  making  their 
way  to  this  part  of  the  building  with  a  ladder. 
It  was  planted  against  the  wall.  One  of  the 
men  mounted  it. 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.     363 

"  It  is  Horace  !  "  she  screamed.  "  God  keep 
him ! " 

All  the  rest  of  the  time,  Mary  Haviland  held 
her  folded  hands  up  to  God,  while  her  eyes 
were  fastened  on  her  brother. 

"Hold  on !"  he  shouted  to  the  man  still  cling- 
ing to  the  window. 

The  ladder  was  long,  but  it  did  not  reach  the 
man.  If  it  had  only  been  half  a  yard  longer,  the 
man's  feet  would  have  touched  it,  and  as  there 
was  an  ornamental  projection  just  there  in  the 
wall  at  the  right  of  the  man,  he  could  have 
steadied  himself  by  it,  when  his  feet  rested  on 
the  ladder,  and  with  care  could  have  descended 
it.  There  was  that  little  gap,  though,  between 
the  man's  feet  and  the  ladder,  and  it  seemed  as  ' 
fatal  as  if  a  chasm  a  mile  wide. 

"  Steady  the  ladder  !  "  shouted  Horace. 

A  dozen  pairs  of  strong  arms  must  have  been 
laid  on  that  ladder,  steadying  its  foot.  "What 
woman  rushed  to  the  firemen's  help  ?  Were 
not  Mary's  hands  on. the  ladder? 

Horace  Haviland  was  said  to  be  the  strong- 
est man  in  town.  A  big,  broad-shouldered  man. 
The  boys  loved  to  tell  stories  of  his  prowess.  To 
them  he  was  both  Samson  and  Hercules  in  one. 


364:  SAILOK-BOY  BOB. 

Bracing  himself  in  his  footing  on  the  ladder, 
helped  by  the  ornamental  facing  to  the  wall  I 
have  mentioned,  holding  up  his  hands,  he  said, 
"  Easy  now  !  Don't  be  afraid  !  Drop  ! " 

Some  of  the  people  turned  their  heads  away. 
Mary  Haviland  still  looked,  still  held  up  her 
hands,  and  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  God's  hands 
were  on  the  ladder  steadying  it,  and  God's  hands 
were  also  helping  her  brother's  hands  reaching 
up  toward  the  man. 

"Hurrah!  hurrah!"  echoed  a  huge  shout 
from  the  crowd,  for  in  Horace  Haviland's  arms 
was  the  rescued  man,  and  soon  they  both  came 
down  the  ladder. 

"  O,  thank  God  !  "  cried  Mary. 

She  did  not  stop  to  see  or  hear  further.  It 
was  enough.  Horace  was  a  hero.  Her  brother 
was  the  great  man  she  had  always  believed  him 
to  be.  The  ladder  was  only  the  pedestal  exalt- 
ing him  that  in  his  true  proportions  he  might 
stand  out  before  the  people.  They  must  have  all 
seen  it.  "  They  know  it  now  !  "  she  murmured. 

The  engines  now  resumed  their  playing  on 
the  building,  while  the  rescued  man  slunk  away 
from  notice  as  rapidly  as  possible.  He  had  not 
gone  very  far  when  a  firm  hand  was  laid  on  his 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WORSE.      365 

shoulder,  and  a  voice  said  :  "  You  are  my  pris- 
oner." 

The  incendiary  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  You  may  think  it  hard  to  be  nabbed,"  said 
the  police  officer,  "  after  your  escape  from  that 
horror,  but  you  are  wanted  for  a  theft  over  in 
Harrington." 

"  You — you  are  mistaken1,  and  it's  tough  after 
gettin'  out  of  that  oven  to  be  hauled  up.  You 
want  another  man." 

"  I  want  you,  Steve  Wyckham.  I  know  you. 
Come  along,  this  way  !  " 

The  two  went  to  the  police  station. 

Steve  Wyckham  was  also  wanted  the  next  day 
for  the  firing  of  the  brick  block.  Suspicion 
fastened  on  him,  and  he  was  tried  for  that  in- 
cendiarism as  well  as  for  the  Harrington  rob- 
bery. It  turned  out  that  Strippings,  who  had 
some  acquaintance  with  insurance  offices.,  had 
told  Steve  that  "  the  insurance  on  Ralph's  block 
had  expired  without  renewal."  Before  it  might 
be  renewed,  Steve,  anxious  for  revenge,  vowed 
he  would  fire  the  building.  He  tried  to  induce 
Horace  Haviland  to  undertake  the  job,  and 
thought  if  he  could  fire  Horace  with  rum,  Hor- 
ace could  be  induced  to  fire  the  building. 


366  SAILOR-BOY  BOB. 

Knowing  the  horrible  antecedents  of  rum, 
Steve  did  not  credit  it  with  too  much  demoni- 
acal power,  if  he  could  only  get  it  inside  of 
Horace.  Steve  failed  in  his  efforts,  and  then 
fired  the  building  himself,  only  to  find  out  that 
Strippings  was  wrong  in  the  statement  made 
about  the  insurance  on  the  building.  The  in- 
surance had  been  very  promptly  renewed  by  the 
young  owner  of  the  building,  and  it  was  suffi- 
cient to  enable  Ralph  to  restore  the  brick  block 
to  its  former  condition  for  effective  service. 
Steve  Wyckham  had.  ample  opportunity  in  jail 
to  reflect  upon  the  fact  that  bad  impulses  un- 
checked will  develop  into  a  character  surely  and 
steadily  deteriorating. 

What  could  be  expected,  on  the  other  hand, 
in  the  lives  of  Sailor-boy  Bob,  Ralph,  Alma, 
Horace,  and  others,  trying  to  make  good  charac- 
ter into  what  was  still  better  ? 

Bob,  in  the  office  of  John  "Winthrop  &  Sons, 
established  a  reputation  not  only  for  enterprise, 
but  integrity  also. 

Ralph  in  his  studies  gave  promise  of  a  life  of 
exceeding  usefulness  in  the  ministry  of  God. 
The  large-hearted,  self-denying  Alma,  people 
said,  would  make  that  worthy  help-meet  for 


GOOD  TO  BETTER,  BAD  TO  WOBSE.      367 

Ralph  which  she  promised  to  be.  Horace  Ilav- 
iland  in  the  path  of  temperance  found  a  life 
opening  into  larger  and  larger  possibilities  of 
usefulness. 

"  You  have  not  said  any  thing  about  the  An- 
dromeda" some  one  remarks.  Ah,  that  dear 
old  tub  continued  to  make  other  voyages  for 
John  Winthrop  &  Sons,  and  brought  back  new 
resources  of  wealth.  Sail  on,  Andromeda/ 
Sail  on  1 


THE   END. 


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